Hark, the Mistrusted
by Celestial Wonders
Summary: Changed Summary-We start with Soul Eater, age nine, Living in Florence Italy. A large terrorist act happened at his school, but were they really terrorists, or witches with a conspiricy. Soul Eater, is he really with shibusen,is he really only a weapon?
1. Prologue, An Introduction

**Hello! I'm new to the "Soul Eater" community. This is my first story, so be harsh. I'm doing this to improve my writing, so criticizm is greatly appreciated. There won't be pairings, unless I decide later, but don't hope. This story mainly revolves around Soul, and a little his family. If you didn't read the summary, this is AU. Read with discrimination. And lastly, I own nothing. **

_The music played softly, its echo resonating through the empty mansion. Andante…Andante…listen to its thoughts. Do you hear it? Can you suffer its pulse through your veins? I can play them, your melancholy words. I know them, I feel unchanged. _

_He let his hand stroke its ivory keys, letting his fingers linger on a few, soon, making a complete halt on a single note. Do you know where insanity lies? He could hear the small demon of a conscience pester him. He imagined the small imp on his shoulder laughing hysterically at his discomfort. The demon made a gesture to his crown. It is all up here…_

"_That's true, isn't it?" The child reasoned with himself, staring, keeping his gaze to the blank song sheet. His boyish face drew away from its apathy slowly. The smile that had formed at the corner of his lips grew larger and larger, until the only slight tug on his lip reached a wide, maniacal standpoint. One...2...3...4...the piano begins to play. Our hearts turn from a lighthearted smile to a dismal, lonesome, soul as your song progresses. You create it when you play, this desolate atmosphere. Your audience will be chilled, so unforgiving. _The song ended with the single aching note; his hands still placed in home row on the piano.

The small child rested his fingers upright on the piano keys, waiting for his reddened knuckles to receive another blow of abuse from his instructor. A ruler smacked across the bones for the umpteenth time that day, just as expected. The large, studio like room, kept an eerily dark appearance as the overly thin and wrinkled man conducted his daily lessons. Papers and notebooks were scattered across the numerous desks, filled with notes of nonsense, completely acquainted with one another. Soul waited for the upcoming criticism.

"You played the notes perfectly, no mistakes in that matter. However, at the fourth measure you seemed to speed up the tempo slightly, which affected the song afterwards entirely. Please pay attention to the accent marks located at measures nine, thirteen, and thirty-two, it felt weak, and you need more vigor in those areas. Also, your posture is terrible, what do they teach you at your house? Really, you need make you back straight." He gestured by pulling the child's shoulders back, much to his discomfort, and displayed the proper way to sit. "Alright, now do it again. Pay attention to your notes."

Soul followed the old man's instructions to the last syllable, squinting his eyes to perceive the notes on the page, in the black tinted room. The piece filled the wall's ears softly drumming against the wood, that was except when the measures nine, thirteen, and thirty-two…danced across the page; then the keys would be pounded against it's wooden frame, just as the old, deaf man had requested.

When the song had finished you could see the instructor groan inwardly. Looking at Soul, then letting his eyes wander around the overly packed room. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You still have a lot to learn, Soul, don't think you can get off that easy. In what way do you suppose that you can even compete with your brother if you can't at least do this much? Oh well, it's not in my field to have an opinion, please work on this piece and have it perfectly ready by our next practice tomorrow, understand? You are dismissed." With a wave of the plump man's hand Soul sighed in relief.

He pushed himself off of the wooden bench and gathered the pieces of music into his Italian attaché. Every piano session lately had really been taking a toll on him. To be blunt, this kind of occurrence is…unusual. When accustomed to a two-hour practice each evening, most would believe that his body would have no trouble with the strain by this point.

However, every evening for the past few weeks, his hands would ache and eyes droop at the hardship of keeping them open, staring at song sheets of, who knows what. It felt like nonsense, after he had played them for so long. Depression edged at his body, the anticipation of his return to home stirred.

The doors of the small brick home opened. The sun's bright light invaded the poor boy's eyes. His head began to pound against his skull, eyebrow twitching at the displeasure. He walked down the green-grassed yard to the long black limousine waiting patiently for his return.

Mr. Maliad, the driver of the expensive vehicle, quickly made his way out of the car, and escorted the young child to the black leather seats.

As they drove along the newly paved road, the air was silent. Neither said a word, neither made a comment. The blue sky still shone, as well as the playful clouds passing by.

The oversized manor quickly came into view as the car drove down the countryside. Flowers flooded through the fields, birds chirped in harmonious sound and animals fought for their territory. The vehicle made a sharp turn and drove up into the cemented route. It thread through the large, brick walls, which surrounded the mansion. At the point when you yourself will pass through these guarding walls, your heart will immediately sink. The birds song felt distant, the beauty of the flowers were withered, no animal would dare mark its path on this estate. The brick walls were gray and black colored, the house to match. Immediately giving the manor an outcast, strict, look. Two paths of the driveway encircled the plot of a large garden, which consisted of nothing but grass. In the middle of the garden plot a small fountain spurted water at a constant rate. It had possessed a peculiar figure of one-quarter note its center. Most would find this occurrence odd, but everything in a musician family was odd. It was the work of the arts, and a dramatic artist is always in any musically gifted family.

The car finally came to a halt; the boy did not waste a second to wait for the chauffer to open his door, and instead opened it himself. Walking briskly, he made his way up the lengthy stairs, slowing down as the stairway progressed.

"Stairs are so bothersome…," he complained quietly to himself. The doors to the manor opened with a heavy push as he came into the large entranceway.

Your fist few steps will echo throughout the mansion. Each room will hear the soft tap of your shoe, each head turning to match the identity of the newcomer, before resuming their work. A diamond chandelier hung above him, mocking the presence of anyone below. It was the atmosphere, in which any high class family would want to create. A pair of twin stairwells sat parallel to each other, both making a circle shape to the next floor. A normal Victorian styled standard.

Soul removed his exclusive shoe wear and entered the home completely. The air was casually silent, like it usually was. Making a quick decision of taking the right side of the stairwell, he took to the quickest route to his own bedroom.

Walking down the abandoned hallways, pictures of numerous unrecognizable people hung on the wall. Their eyes would keep on eye on you no matter how far you strayed. It would only make one wonder why the halls were abandoned at so many times. The floor creaked slightly as he kept to his pace, eyes darting from door to door to find his own. Finally , there stood the immense Mahogany door. The matching large, knob turned as he showed himself inside. With a soft click of the handle, he skipped into his room and slumped down into his bed. Peace, at last. Silence filled the room's airspace, leaving no crack unprotected. With a black blazer discarded onto the floor, the room sat still. Vitale took the stillness with gratitude and rested the stress and worries which loomed over his cluttered mind.

The clock read six o'clock, when Vitale woke up from his nap. He wiped the dreariness away from his eyes as he sat right side up. Darkness replaced the sun at this hour of the night, which comforted him slightly. His stomach grumbled. Food sounded nice at about this time, he supposed. Running a free hand through his hair, he took a route along the complicated hallways and found his way to the dining area. A couple around the ages of thirty, along with a child who could be said to be around five years older than Soul himself were already seated at the table, looking as though they had just started to eat a second ago.

Without his presence acknowledged, Soul sat himself at the other side of his brother and began to eat the plate already set out for him, trying to pick up on the current conversation.

"Audra, have you been watching the news lately?" His father confronted his mother. The vegetables on the older man's plate were being scattered mindlessly. "Apparently, some odd rebellion, as they call it, has started. It has said to be the next Holocaust. It simply seems dreadful. Though, I know the officials shall put a stop to it as soon as possible, I'll tell you, the crazy stuff people begin these days…" the father's voice trailed away, only to be found a few seconds later. "I heard they have started to actually kill innocent people, just for the government's attention. Who really knows what they plan to do. They haven't even voiced out their opinions yet. Either they want do kill everyone and create a dictatorship, or they are simply terrorists wanting people to notice their religion. Well, who knows? This incident will probably blow right over, as most do." Audra cut in before his father could add on more to the morbid subject.

"Well, enough of this frightening talk. You are putting chills down my spine. Besides, don't we have matters that are more important to discuss? As in the party, we are hosting next month. Wes, sweetheart?" her head turned into his brother's direction. Making them both stare at her slightly.

"Yes, mother?" Wes, said, after finding his voice.

"How is Partita in D minor, coming along? Your tutor told me that you are currently working on the Sarabande?" Audra addressed to her eldest son.

"Ah! Yes, it is slightly difficult but, I think I've had a handle on things." The elder's reply came softly. He gave a nod to both parents and continued with his meal. The mother smiled lovingly at her son as the father stole himself into the conversation.

"Oh, Wes. You have been the pride of this family the day you were born. I can vividly see the memory of your mother holding you in her arms. And I said, with confidence, Audra, this boy is going to be a master at whatever instrument he chooses. Look at you now. A young, talented prodigious violinist. A genius in actuality! I can't begin to describe how proud I am of you." The father smiled genuinely at Aurelio, who nodded in fake modesty in response. Soul kept his head faced toward his plate, with no emotion creeping toward his face. The dinner conversation stayed mutually on this subject as Soul kept his thoughts to himself, picking up pieces of vegetables on his plate one by one.

In the Evans household, its family members would only find time to speak

Directly with one another during dinner hour. In this particular occasion, it symbolized how dinner conversations had been since his brain could function enough to remember scenes, events, and occasions. Other than these few times of reunion, they all stayed their distance from one another.

After another minute of the overly redundant colloquy topic, Soul excused

himself and returned to his room, ready to turn in for the night.

**Please Review. I want to write better, so you can even downgrade me on the little things. Even writing style, just pack it on…Please. **


	2. In the End

**Here I am again…the first chapter was dull, unexciting. I hope that this is slightly better, If not, well then could you tell me it sucks? I rather read it over; I don't really like my writing style, sucks to be me. Well anyway, I own nothing, not even kid…or his stripes, or **_**Mifune**_**. *cries and runs away* **

**Also, another note, if you see the names Vitale or Aurelio, that would be Soul and Wes, I was writing the same plot for a different purpose, so I have to change the names for this, though they are based of these characters, but, just to let you know. If you see the names I just missed them. **

The morning's rays of sunlight painted the walls of the depressing room. The covers and sheets had tangled themselves across the mattress, suffocating the small child. Birds hummed happily in the trees and Soul groaned at the rude awakening.

He pulled the sheets over his head; his hair was a mess in all direction. He opened his eyes slightly, before scuffling himself under the blankets. It was the deadly UV rays: direct contact. Awakening himself once more, he pushed himself off the overly sized mattress and began his daily routine to prepare for his current academy.

Thursday morning, a day closer to Friday, which is also a day closer to the weekend; to Soul, there was no differentiation between the days of the week. It seemed that every day was a foreshadowing to the next.

Through the school week, he would of course attend classes for 8 hours, (7-3) and then leave straight to his piano lesson, which would last for two more hours.

Afterward he would usually keep to his room until dinner. The weekends would have the same schedule as well, giving full credit to the supplementary classes his parents require of him.

Each subject was a level higher than his current, also tightening the free time, which he so little had. In his mind, he sometimes joked about scheduling breathing time, to make sure his heart was still pumping from the constant trials.

Although, the small calendar that hung above his dresser indicated that it was indeed Thursday, and Vitale didn't want to deny the time and space created by his fellow humanity, so he decided not to argue with the fact. Therefore, on Thursday morning, Vitale awakens.

Academy of the Accomplished, or better described, Academy for the 98% rich and the 2% talented. (It seems that some scholarships are available.)

An Academy for the rich, beautiful, for the smart, and artistic, for the intelligent, and for the rich. With few students genuinely accepted and a surplus of the staff bought, students from all of Italy strive to become one of the greatest, one of the ACCOMPLISHED. However, others strive to get through the day.

"Another boring day at school, I presume you expect, Sir?" the chauffer inquired politely. Vitale removed his gaze from the window and faced toward the front of the vehicle.

"Yes," he replied, "I assume that today will take the same toll as any other day. Why do you inquire? You are usually quiet on the rides to school, expecting anything?"

"No, nothing for you to worry about. Please excuse my frankness. Have a nice day." The car pulled through the steel gates and stopped at the outer campus. Soul gave a nod to the driver and headed out.

The newly trimmed grass popped under his heels as he made his way up to the stone columns revealing twisted hallways and stories of classrooms.

He opened the gated glass door and swerved out of the way of the other students, looking for his specified room throughout the corridor.

Room: 4242, was his stationed homeroom. The teacher was very kind along with a nice name. It had a special ring to it, Ms. Rossa. She was pretty too. A timid but bright smile that could make the classroom swoon in admiration.

The girls aspired to achieve as she, the boys sat in the classroom and attentively listened to each lecture every day of the week, they would come in on Sundays too, but that was against the education policies.

Soul sat down at his usual spot in the corner of the room, next to the large window in which he could survey the flowerbed of the garden below. He swung his messenger bag over the back of his seat, simultaneously pulling out a recently found book that he had not yet read.

He was the only one so far stationed in the classroom. He enjoyed the silence before the buzz of the other students. Minutes felt like seconds as the page turning progressed. A young girl came in just as Soul did minutes before, only she positioned herself in one of the middle seats instead of the back. Without a gesture toward the other being in the classroom, she opened a book of her own and began to read.

This same arrangement had been the same for the past few months now. He would come in and read, and then she would as well. There would be no greeting, no exchange of words or polite smiles.

Neither made an outward note of the others existence, though both definitely noticed. One cannot be so oblivious not to notice another human being: most people see but ignore. Such is a case with many relationships. However, in this circumstance, it was because there simply was no relationship.

Soon enough, after about a half an hour, more students entered the room, making pleasantries with one another. Minutes dragged on and the chatter in the room became louder than the minute before. More children the same age as Soul escorted themselves in the room and began to converse with their familiars. Just as Ms. Rossa came into the room, bells rang, notifying the beginning of the day.

Ms. Rossa ushered the students to their seats, then wrote the day's assignments on the chalkboard. The blissful chatter diminished into silence as Ms. Rossa turned around and faced her students.

The day proceeded with a dull murk of historical deeds, followed by the wonders of algebraic equations and scientific methods. Lunch passed by unnoticed and currently the entire classroom was absorbed in their extra curricular reading time.

Silence, words, the clock ticks, a page turns. Silence pursued through the hour. Some children were a thousand miles away, trapped in the words on the pages, most, however, had their eyes glued to the window, longing for closure. Soul sat still, pretending to be absorbed in his book, which in reality, it was being replaced by his thoughts.

_It's boring. _

_**Then entertain yourself.**_

_I can't. It's too quiet. Make some noise. C'mon. I'm tearing my head off over here!_

_**Too bad. Shut up, I'm reading. **_

_You're too mean. Besides, don't you feel something? You can tell can't you? I'm not the only one building up anxiety here, everyone's on the edge. Maybe something's goanna happen today…_

_**I doubt it. Day in and day out, every day is the same. It's on permanent repeat. Nothing ever changes. **_

_Well aren't you depressing._

Soul continued to ignore the small imp in his head, trying to keep facial expressions to a minimum. Though, he had to agree with him on some part, he also felt the anxiety looming over the classroom.

You could see each individual student fidget in their desk, trying to become comfortable, except for the small few who couldn't read the absent situation. Most were at a loss of ease and wished for something to break this thick tension.

A large beep from the intercom interrupted the reading hour. The students' as well as the teacher's ears perked at this. They waited; no voice was heard. Someone accidentally pressed the intercom button again, ah well, we hoped.

The class was instructed again to continue reading. Once again the intercom sounded, although this time a voice entered the young pupils' ears.

"Attention all students and staff, Attention all students and staff! Please--" the voice was cut off. Silence and awareness enveloped the classroom.

A dark aura surrounded them as each heart beat slightly above normal. The principal or vice probably just dropped the microphone again. It would only be a few seconds until their voice would be heard again.

All of the students waited continuously. They waited… They waited… They waited… They have more patience then I…

The door at the back of the room opened slightly, all heads turned to the source. An old man dressed in all black entered the room, a revolver at his side. Soul jumped up from his seat in surprise. The man's wrinkly figure and brittle bones could be seen a mile away. He entered the room shakily.

_Hey, hey Soul, isn't that your piano teacher. Yes, that on that smacks you all the time. What's he doing here? Come to see if you have been up to date with your practices, I presume? _

_**I don't think so. **_

Mr. Payne smiled creepily toward Soul, and then turned his gaze over to the rest of the classroom who stared at him in disbelief. He smiled.

"What are you all looking at?" he followed the children's gaze, "oh, this?" Mr. Payne held up the revolver. "Do you think I'm going to shoot you?" the old man began to chuckle weakly.

"Don't be silly, I don't have enough strength for this anymore, I only have the muscle to pull it once, and killing only one person here would make the trip completely worthless." He paused. His eyes twinkled mischievously eyeing up each person in the room. "However, they might shoot you." Others dressed the same as he entered the room in suit. Each holding an individual revolver in each hand.

The children's bodies locked still as a gun was pointed at each head. Mr. Payne smiled.

The same sentence ran through each of their heads, as they felt their minds and consciousness slipping. _What's happening? What's going on? _

They all stood still, hoping for their lives. Gunshots were heard outside the classroom. Terrorists? Everyone started to wail and panic over fear of the same occurrence. The whole room was in chaos, some screamed, some tried to run; until the guns at each person's head were cocked all the same, each stood deathly still.

Mr. Payne frowned. "You all seem to be scared. Oh! I know what will lighten up the mood. Let's play a game shall we? Oh, what do kids like to play these days, Oh! I know. Simon Says. You all like to play right. Such a lovely game. All right, I'll be Simon, I'll give you an order and you will follow, but only if I say, Simon Says. Okay?" He bounced up to the front of the room happily. "Teacher you can stand over there okay?" she nodded numbly and was led to the directed location by her capture. "Alright, how should we start? Oh, I know. How about, Simon Says touch your toes." Every student did as instructed. Each toe was being touched.

Simon smiled in satisfaction. "Alright, Simon Says stop touching your toes. Simon says, do five jumping jacks." Each person brought him or her standing and began the next exercise. Simon gave thumbs up. "Okay, Simon Says twirl around in circles." Everyone abided by the next command.

The children continued to twirl. They kept twirling and twirling. The old man watched them all in disgust. His eyes spun and he began to become dizzy. Mr. Payne sighed in aggravation his face grew red, and he yelled angrily, "Everybody STOP!" The children shrieked in surprise and ceased immediately.

He grinned coyly. Mr. Payne's eyes danced with delight. "Ooo, tough break everybody, SIMON DIDN'T SAY!" With a snap of a finger each trigger was pulled.

One after another, blood and gore splattered and painted the walls of the classroom. Bodies fell to the ground, their eyes now glassed with death. Silence emitted from the room.

The weapons were then stationed back to their sides, waiting patiently for further instruction.

Most don't realize, how suddenly death strikes you. After a mere second of the trigger being pulled a life was lost. It was so quick, so easy; and no one did anything. They just stood there, waiting for the judgment of a loony old man and the children's games of his that will never be thought the same of again. The innocent children's game had turned into a sick death sentence.

Was this man delusional? He painted innocence with blood. Crimson, deep crimson blood.

Soul collapsed to the ground. His body started to shiver as he surveyed this surreal reality. He grimaced in resentment. Blood, and more blood, the different bodies' blood were being mixed together in a grotesque pool. It was sickening.

"Who the hell are you?" he whispered. The small shiver became a violent shake, as each terrorist took a step back and lodged their guns inside their mouths. "I said WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?" Each trigger simultaneously pulled. The loch of blood started to rise against the walls. It showed just how much each body contained of blood. It was amazing really, but not in the happy science, way it usually is.

His pants and hands were soaked in blood, though none his own. The whole room romanticized a blood bath. He was bathing in all of their blood, at their expense. Tears prickled his eyes as he gazed upon the girl who had been quietly reading an hour before, now just a soiled corpse like the others.

The deep chuckle snapped him out of his thoughts. "Do you like it? I honestly hate that. I hate it deep down in my heart. But alas, I do have one bullet left. One bullet, Soul." Mr. Payne gleamed hysterically. "I only have strength for one bullet, you know. A feeble body of mine couldn't handle another. Who shall I waste it on, who, who. Oh! I know. Do you know, Soul Eater, do you know where this bullet is going?" He approached Soul slowly, a hint of mischief evident in his body language.

"Yeah, I know." Soul stared into the blood, slightly scared, and disappointed. "I've always known." He paused, and then looked up to meet the instructor's eyes. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Confidence radiated off his skin. "What the hell did you want to accomplish from all this?" Silence. Both were comfortable, but the air began to become tense.

Mr. Payne weakly cocked his gun. His eyes danced. "Death brings life…; life brings hate, KILL THEM ALL! A clean new slate." The old man jammed the revolver into his own throat, as the others had done before. The trigger clicked.

Gore splattered against Soul's face. He scooted back as the body collapsed right before him. He was disappointed. It was sad, he was disappointed. The only one left was he. Ironically, the last one breathing was he. He was alone in a room full of people, like always. The single person in the room, out of everyone, he survived.

Soul sat for a moment, then began to stand up shakily, supporting his weight against the wall. "That damn old man," he muttered, "talking in riddles."

He unbuttoned his soiled shirt and pulled it off. Then Soul circled around his desk, avoiding the plenty corpses, and found an extra sweater to replace it.

Once he had himself covered, he sat down in the corner of the room, listening to the gunshots that echoed outside the current room, which came from all of the others. He was alone, as always.

**Please Read and Review. Tell me you like it or you hate it, probably the latter, but that is okay. **


	3. Inside Me

**Hello, here I am, again. I have decided that this should have some/lot SoulxMaka in later chapters. As in, not now though. Right now it's just going to focus on Soul. Umm...Yeah, I don't own anything, but if I did I would let you all borrow it, so since I'm nice like that, Please R&R. **

He sat in his room, welcoming the darkness. It had been a long day, a very long day. The police had come, and rescued him. He and the 50 other children that had miraculously survived.

There were so many people. Death was so easily projected on to those younger that maturity, still hiding in innocence.

In the elementary schools most were just shot dead, connected to the elementary was the middle school, grades six through eight, there, the survivors described everyone as just falling dead at the snap of his/her finger.

Apparently, only one person came in each of those rooms. Most of their mouths were invaded by a hand; and then poof, they exploded. The authorities wrote down that those survivors were hallucinating. They had been put under too much mental and emotional stress and their head snapped.

Soul, however, found it highly unlikely that each child was having the same hallucination, though he definitely did not believe any of the stories that they had told. They all just wanted attention, in any way they could get it. He found it barbaric on how they could joke about all of those lives with that.

He himself felt slightly guilty that he had survived this mess, though he knew he had nothing to feel guilty about.

It was probably the luck of the draw, that his heart had not stopped, but part of him thought otherwise. What made him even angrier was that Wes was there as well.

It was unbeknownst to him, how his brother too, escaped death as he did. Evan's unluck he supposed.

Ah, well. It wasn't as if he wanted Wes to die, no, Soul would give his life for his brother's in an instant, but it made him feel uneasy seeing Wes again, when he thought on his life that Wes was dead. Everything had just been very confusing lately.

Soul tucked himself in bed and laid himself there for a moment more. He felt his heart. Ever since he had left the Academy, his pulse would not calm. Today was probably the one and only thrill of his life, nothing else was going to occur, he wished his body would just shut up and calm down.

With a deep breath, he sighed into slumber, where his body trembled under his skin uncontrollably.

_Soul…Come watch. _

_**What do you want? Are you loony? Alternatively, I suppose am I loony? It is and never will be us. It is I, and only I. You don't exist. You're just a figment of my imagination. You're not real; don't pretend to be. **_

_However, this is interesting. Come, it will only take just a minute of your time. Please? _

_**Leave me alone. I don't even know who, or even what you are. Why would I risk anything by playing one of your disturbing games? Why the hell are you here anyway, in my head, my dreams? **_

_Soul, I am you. I am us. You are us. We are you. We are me. Come with me. Follow you. Trust us._

_**Whenever you tell me to look, all I see are gory images. I end up puking in the morning, and tomorrow, no thank you. I've had enough problems out there, in the real world. I don't need anymore inside my own head. In this case, I don't trust you, me, us, or we, or whatever I am or we are. I can trust no one; therefore, I refuse to trust you or myself. Leave me alone. **_

_Ha, fine. If you don't want to play, you can just leave. _

_**Wait, stop. Let me go, I want to stay! **_

_You irresponsible child, don't think you can stay here and be ignorant to what is around you, if you don't want to try to understand then don't. Just leave._

_**Stop it! Don't make me leave! I don't want to. Stop it---**_

**Silence~ **

-----

School had been cancelled, not to the surprise of the young pupils. Most would have stayed home on school hours anyway. Heavy hearts sagged the children into melancholy. However, the depression of the surviving students didn't float to their rich and maybe loving parents.

Couples and Parents alike rushed their children to the hospitals and medics to hope and find that their children all right, physically, after the incident.

Most would not conclude that after so many dead, how such actually survived the terror act. They supposed, something else, something more long term would be cursed onto their children, and no one was about to take any chances.

Wes was in the same predicament as the other children. Sitting, waiting for their family doctors to inspect them, both were not the least bit amused.

Soul, on the other hand, came in once a week. Most would find it strange, but recently he had been having many asthma attacks. He coughed up blood and other things of that nature; he would hyperventilate. So, therefore, he needed to see a doctor regularly in a series of checkups to look at his condition.

Recently, he began taking medicine in shot form, to help his body avoid asthma attacks, though not the asthma itself.

He was currently surprised that no asthma attack came just a day ago, when a certain large event took place. He was starting to think that the medicine the doctor was giving him had actually started to work.

They continued to wait in the medic center. The office was clean. The only word for description. White walls painted the scene with numb excitement. Carpeting of soothing green did none of such. After hearing the painful cries from the not so far away rooms, those under the age of twenty-two were shaking in their expensive dress pants and collared shirts.

A woman around the age of thirty came out of the wooden door, smiling as she passed. "Soul Eater Evans? The doctor is ready to see you now." Soul glanced up from his current distraction and got up from his chair. Without looking back, he followed the older woman through the gates of hell.

The walk always seemed aggravating, when he went through the long, familiar hallways. However, relief soon overcame him as he stepped into the room where his doctor would always say the same advice, and always played the same games, always the same small child stationed in the corner. It was actually, to him, the only peaceful part of the trip, the polar opposite of his fellow comrades.

They stopped at the door. The nameplate read, Dr. Me. They entered. A woman with dark blonde hair smiled and greeted them. "Ah, Soul! Is it that time in the week already? Oh, come sit. Come on. Tell me how you've been doing. So much has been going on around here, I feel like it's been forever since I've seen you. Come in, come in." She ushered him to a comfortable chair next to a table.

The familiar pink-haired girl still sat in the corner, holding a small bunny doll close to her face.

Soul complied, with this familiar atmosphere. "Soul, I'm making some tea, would you like some? I know you usually prefer coffee, but tea is nice for a change, yes?"

Soul turned his head toward her and smiled graciously. "Actually Dr. Me that would be nice. I haven't had tea in a while, so if it wouldn't trouble you..."

"Oh, not at all. Let's see," she rummaged through a series of cabinets, "alright, one for you and one for me." She proceeded by pouring the tea into each individual cup. Dr. Me walked down to the small table and set down the drinks.

"Let's get down to business. (To defeat the Hans! Did they send me daughters, when I asked, for Sons!?)Hmmm…Let's see. Have you had any asthma attacks lately? Any dizziness? I'm sure you're aware of your usual symptoms. How are you feeling?" Dr. Me asked as he turned his head toward her.

"I've been okay." He answered her quietly, his hands playing with each other on the table.

"Alright that's good. How have you been feeling since I started to give you that new treatment?" Her pen was still writing against the plain white sheet on her clipboard. She stopped writing and looked up at him, waiting for his answer.

"I think, better, actually. Honestly, I think I'm outgrowing my asthma a lot quicker than I would have." He nodded to her to emphasize his statement, only it seemed slightly forced, which hadn't gone unnoticed by the young female doctor, however she dismissed it.

Dr. Me went around the room in search of her various tools to help along with the checkup. First, she measured his blood pressure. She attached the small balloon like item around his arm and began to pump. She stopped and let the air flow out, as she read the numbers.

She took out her clipboard and wrote something down, before going to the next practice. Soul watched as she rummaged through the room once more. "Dr. Me?" Soul called out her name.

Dr. Me stood up from the bottom cupboard holding a large needle and various cleaning utensils in her hand. "Yes Soul? What do you need?" She sat down from across him and began to prepare him for the shot.

"Umm...Nevermind. It isn't important." She gave him a look but nevertheless, took him for his word.

Pulling it from out of nowhere, he saw the pitch-black liquid in the needle. Dr. Me held his arm down and injected the needle at the crease of his elbow. Soul bit his lip for the moment, not enjoying the slight sting that the shot gave him.

After a few seconds, the needle was clear and she slowly pulled the sharp object out of his skin. After she put a quick band-aid on his skin, she shooed him out for a quick goodbye. He stopped. Soul glanced up at her, with a confused look on his face, almost unsure. She stopped and stooped down to his level.

"Soul, is something bothering you? Is it about the medicine? If it is anything at all, you need to tell me. You know that this is really new, and we're still gathering information." She looked at him with some concern present in her eyes. He paused in all motion, a wave of panic set over him. He started to breath uneasily.

She pulled him over and sat him in the chair once more, patiently waiting for him to speak.

"Ever since I took the medicine…I think that…Well…I think that a symptom of the medicine is Schizophrenia." He stated this firmly, not about to give up this argument.

She jumped, slightly surprised by his enthusiasm. She smiled. "Now Soul, why would you say that? I highly doubt that--"

"IT'S TRUE!" A pause. "It's true. I know it. All the time, there is this little demon, imp, whatever it is…he talks to me. Every day, every hour, he talks to me. I don't know why but I talk back. He's in my dreams too. It's starting to scare me, what am I supposed to do?!" He looked frantic, like he should've been.

There was a playful glint in her eye as she circled around him, scrutinizing his every move.

"Soul, tell me about these dreams of yours." He glanced back at her, unsure if he should pursue the topic. Finally abiding by her command he obediently opened his mouth and started to speak.

"I'm in a room. It is only I in there. I sit, listening to jazz, on a record that constantly skips. I'm in a pinstriped suit. I just sit, wait, and listen. Then _he _comes.

_The imp danced, swinging his hips off beat and snapping his fingers. "__**Soul, Soul!" **__He calls. A name that he chants over and over. "Can you feel your power? It runs inside you. Give into it. Let it embrace you." _

"_I have no idea what your talking about. I don't feel anything. Leave me alone." He glared at the imp from his seat, the music still playing. In truth, the demon's form gave him a slight fright, if you will. _

"_Aren't you tired of being afraid?" The demon said as if he had read his thoughts. "Come with me. Have no need for comfort nor courage. Aren't you tired of feeling lonely?" Soul stayed in his seat, unsure of how to proceed. The demon sighed. He walked over to Soul and pulled him out of his chair. _

"_I see you are still unready. Come, if you plan to do nothing you are not needed in this place. Leave at once." The imp continued to drag Soul out of the outcast room. _

"_Wait, stop!" he squeaked. The next words coming out of his mouth were unable to form. The imp, the same height as he, continued to pull. Finally, Soul was shoved out of the room and the door was shut tight._

_It scared him. Everything around him was pitch- black. Before his mind had time to comprehend, he was already floating in the pool of darkness. Was this death? Not knowing what was up or down, left, or right. Is this where everyone one Earth looks forward? Nothing? _

_Silence emitted from nowhere, everywhere, anywhere, not a voice or cry was found. He stayed, for a moment, in that relaxed position. _

_Soon, he was disturbed. From above, or below, a white lighted blinded him, and pulled his body closer to it. At a maximum speed, he was pulled completely into the white sky. Not taking chances, he waited until it was finally all right to open his eyes. _

_In an instant he was in pitch-black darkness, now he stood on a grassed plain. The sky was blue, and in contrast, the green grass soiled in red._

_Dead bodies covered the newly fought battlefield. It looked like it was bloody and long. It had no survivors from the point of view that he could see. None of whom these people he had recognized. _

_Heads were chopped off and stuck to poles pivoted into the ground. Bodies lay with missing limbs and scattered organs. Blood watered the soil and kept the grass healthy and greener. _

_He felt the need to puke, his eyes and body not accustomed to such gore. He started to walk through the field; stenches of death were present in the air. About half way through he stopped for an unknown reason and turned. _

_A dirty blonde-haired woman faced him. Her hands on her hips, a head or two taller than he. She glanced at the death rotten corpses. He stared at her, completely oblivious to what she was about to do. _

_She shot him a smile before screaming at the top of her lungs. It was piercing. _

_He covered his ears violently. His body shook, trying to stop her ringing voice from affecting him. Her scream became louder and louder, more high-pitched. _

_The ringing in his head started to pound against his skull, but to his own amazement, his heartbeat started to take control. It became more frequent and took up most of the hearing space until all he could heed was the thump of his own heart. _

_It beat hard against his chest, getting louder each second until it suddenly stopped. A man whose face was covered entirely in stitches came up to him. Currently Soul was sitting in a black hospital room. The new character rode up in his swivel chair and came within centimeters of his face. _

"_This is what death feels like. Do you know? This is death, and you're never coming back…and you know what else?" Soul sat silently, waiting for the man's next words, his heart no longer beating, but his mind still hearing the throb of his heart. "You're still all alone." _

"Then I just wake up. My eyes just open. I don't know if it's a nightmare, or if it even counts as one but, I'm just starting to feel crept out by all this." Soul looked to her for guidance. Her growing smile suddenly disappeared right where it began, and her eyes showed concern once more.

"Hmm…I don't think it's the medicine. If I were to guess, a lot of stress has been hammering at you lately. And also, with that event that happened at the school, no wonder your having nightmares.

Now, there's no need for you to worry, if I keep injecting the medication into you, I'm sure things will start to clear up, okay?" He nodded numbly, taking the advice for now.

Soul walked out of the room, his heart much lighter than before. She began to hum an incomprehensible tune that she supposed later that she made up on the spot. Medusa smiled and Chrona shivered under her gaze.

"Poor Soul. Your lucky Chrona, you only possess the black blood, but that boy there...he's my new project. You will still be of use, no need to fret darling, although, he will be much more powerful than you or I can imagine."

She laughed. "Is he an idiot? Too trusting. Someone had to teach him a lesson, right Chrona?" The child nodded numbly in response. Medusa chuckled once more before dumping her untouched tea back into the sink.

_More skillful than any weapon or technician combined, more powerful than any witch or warlock you can find, that is the power of my serum. _

**If you can read this, you've read this, your too close! Ha Ha, I'm just kidding. **

**Like it, hate it? You can tell me your thoughts right now! Please Review. **

**~Celestial **


	4. A boring Tuesday

**Hi...It's been a while. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. This is a pretty boring chapter so I'll try to update quicker This time. The only excuse I have now is writers block. Like, I know what's going to happen next, I just need to figure out on how to get there. Well anyway, here's the next chapter. **

Two weeks, in counting, had passed since the incident. Tiredly, Soul locked himself in his room. This gesture would usually be unnatural for him. Although he did enjoy only having the company of himself, the usual hiding place would be located in the library.

However, soon his father was to close in on a new business deal, a new line of instruments based on the Evan's family taste. Music and expensive material whose ideas where passed down from the generations of past.

Therefore, he lay on his bed. The ceiling fan twirled above him, causing a source of dizziness and nausea to arouse. The stuffiness of the overheated room wasn't helping either.

Soul continued to use up his free time, when a knock was heard at the door. He continued to lie down, ignoring the sound altogether. Another knock came in a pair this time. Still, using almost no willpower he ignored the visitor.

A constant roar of knocking drowned the silence of the sun-bathed room, Soul groaned in annoyance, a pool of vexation overcoming him.

Suddenly a loud bang erupted from the door, a persistent visitor. Reluctantly, Soul got up and opened the door. Wes stood there, a head taller than he.

"Soul I thought you would never open up." Wes pushed Soul out of the way and he invited himself into the dense room.

"Wes, what are you doing here?" Soul gave a glance to his watch. "Shouldn't you be at your violin practices? Mother and father will be disappointed once they learn that you skipped them." Wes gave Soul a smile, and rested the back of his head in his intertwined fingers.

"Don't be silly; father said I could skip them today." He walked over and flopped on Soul's bed. "Soul, open the windows, it's hot in here."

"Alright." Obediently, Soul hurried over to his windows and opened them with challenge, abiding by his older brother's command. He usually didn't want to disappoint his sibling, the closest friend that he would ever probably have.

Afterward, Soul sat down in an empty chair in the corner, waiting for Wes to speak.

The breeze blew Soul's hair into frenzy, tickling his cheeks, to his discomfort. The air in the room grew tense, well; at least it did to Soul. God knows what was running through Wes's head at the time.

After another few moments of silence, Soul took the privilege to speak first.

"Wes, did you need something?"

"Huh?" Wes propped himself up on his elbows and studied the younger child. "No, I was just bored."

Soul sighed in aggravation. _All that knocking because you were bored. How easily entertained are you? _

"Well, if that's all, I'd rather be alone," Soul walked over to his door, and held it open, giving a gesture to direct Wes outside the room, "so if you would be so kindly--" Wes slammed the door, almost catching Soul's hand.

"No thanks. I'd rather stay in here." Soul rolled his eyes slightly. _I wasn't exactly asking. _

He gave a small huff and returned to his seat, letting the breeze take control of his white locks once more. Soul tapped his fingers against the windowsill, making a tune inside of his head. Wes also shifted uncomfortably, as if the room were squeezing him tight.

"Do you ever feel a sense of anxiety, like something's going to happen? Something big. Like...I don't know, like what happened at school last week?"

Soul stared at him blankly; Wes returned the look. "That was kind of random."

"Just answer." Soul looked away, turning his body toward the wall, his head toward the ground.

_Every second of the Day. _

He looked back up. "No, why do you ask?"

Wes sighed and fell back on the bed once more. "I don't know. Are you ready for the party mother and father are planning?"

"I doubt I'll even play in it. You know how they are."

Wes nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I guess you're right." An almost awkward silence befell between the two. Both felt slightly anxious, both for unknown reasons.

"Hey Soul, you want to play outside? It looks nice out, let's go." Soul looked outside. The sun was shining extremely bright that day. The birds sang their cryptic melody. The grass was greener than it had been for months. It was indeed nice out. He contemplated on whether or not to decline his brother's offer.

Honestly, Wes rarely offered to play with Soul, accounting the five-year age difference, (even so, Soul, in some ways, was the more mature of the two.)

So therefore, this could be a new, enjoyable experience. On the other hand, this could be just some ploy to get him in trouble. Soul had been down that road before and wasn't in the mood for one of his father's beatings.

Soul continued to weigh his options, while Wes began to grow impatient. "What would we do outside?" Soul inquired.

Wes thought for a moment. "I don't know." He answered finally. "Let's bend things with our mind. (A/N: C'mon people we've all tried it! lol)"

Soul stared at him, and continued to stare at him. "You're kidding right?"

Wes sighed, "Yeah, I was just kidding. It's impossible right?" Another silence emitted itself. The two sat in the room, undecided on their next activity. Soul leaned his head against the wall; it was...shaking.

With one eye open, he glanced around the room. All of it was shaking. "Wes, why's everything shaking? What's going on?"

Wes looked up from the bedpost and scanned his surroundings. His eyes landed on Soul. "Soul, the rooms not shaking, it's you."

"What?" Soul removed his gaze from the room and looked down at his own hands. Indeed, they were shaking. "Wes, why am I shivering?"

"I don't know." Wes came up to him and tried to pull Soul's body toward his own. At immediate contact, Wes's whole hand felt a shock. "Ow! Soul you shocked me."

"Sorry." He looked down. "Oh, it stopped." Soul inspected his body, as did Wes.

"You're right." Wes felt his arms and pulled up Soul's shirtsleeve. "Ah! Idiot, you were just cold. See you have goose bumps." Soul verified and found that his brother had made a correct assumption. The two stood there for a moment. Wes sighed.

"I'm going to read." Wes left the room without another word, Soul finally finding peace took the elder's previous spot on the bed. _What happened to playing outside? _He sighed. Today was going to be a long day.

------------------------------------

Time goes by so slowly for those who wait, not time to hesitate. Those who run seem to have all the fun, hung up; I don't know what to do. What time was it, 3 p.m.? Still, there was nothing to accomplish, nothing to satisfy the needs of a bored child. Just the wind and the romance of the humid air.

Soul himself had never been one to need something to entertain him. He always was able to sit and do nothing, for hours upon end, needing no sense of enjoyment whatsoever. Why was life so depressing?

Furthermore, the warm air in the morning had turned into hot and humid as the day passed by. Soul was less than pleased.

Downstairs, faint noises of a violin practice were heard. Apparently, Wes got to practice after all. Lucky him. Soul found himself lucky in that sense.

Since his parents rarely noticed his presence, they usually didn't bother him with practicing. However, the house cleaners, and nannies under order by his parents seemed to have no qualms over a friendly reminder.

-----------

Twenty Miles outside of Death City, Nevada

Eruka squeezed her older sister's hand as she was being dragged along the desert coast in the cover of nightfall. The two witches had been fleeing the city, at the misfortune of their identity being discovered.

It had been like this wherever they went, never being able to stay at one place for a long time, always having to move somewhere else. Always badgered by no sense of security over the worry of being discovered.

To have the feeling of being constantly watched by every passing figure. Usually it would be a pair to find their existence, however on this rare occasion; it had only been one.

The speed of her sibling's legs had begun to be too much to bear. Her joints began to ache and her vision began to blur.

"Lily!" She cried, "Why are we running? What's happening? I don't understand at all!" The blue-haired girl stopped and squeezed her smaller sister's arm and hoisted her up.

"Eruka, I can't explain right now, but we have to get away. I'm very weak right now, and I can't use my magic to fight him off." Eruka stared at her, not understanding. Eruka gave a look behind them, seeing an odd-looking blonde-haired person in the distance. She turned back to the elder.

"Lily, I don't get it. Why are we fighting? What did we do? Why are we always running? Why do we always have to feel so scared?" Lily, however, gave no answer. Eruka began to cry. "Lily, Answer me! Please! Why is this always happening?" Eruka began to become frustrated much to Lily's displeasure. She quickened her pace holding Eruka in her arms, slowly beginning to grow tired herself.

The younger of the two began to grow desperately frightened. Upon receiving no replay, had shown that there was more that a scratch or bruise to be afraid from.

Out in the distance, Lily spotted a cabin. It had been their hideout for the time being that they would be resting in Death City. It was small, but durable for a quick rest and some shelter.

Charging into a desperate run Lily crashed through the doors and into the wooden house. Setting Eruka down on the nearest chair, she collapsed on the floor, struggling to regain her breath.

Eruka sat motionless, the black cloak that Lily had given her falling off her shoulders.

"Eruka," Lily called once she found her voice.

Her ears perked at the sound of her name. "Yes?" She began to sit upright, waiting for her sister to speak.

"I think this is it." Lily stared at Eruka painfully, tears beginning in her eyes. Eruka however gave no signs of emotion.

"So, you mean, we'll just wait here till he leaves?" Lily laughed bitterly, and then shook her head.

"I don't think so." They sat in a moment of silence before Lily got up and pulled Eruka into a quick embrace. "I need you to listen to me very carefully, got it?"

Pulled by the sway of her sister's new strength she nodded. "Okay. Do you see that rug over there? There's a trap door underneath.

You're going to have to go under and inside it. When your there, you can't come out or make any noise, no matter what you hear or what happens. Do you understand what I'm saying?" Again, Eruka gave somewhat of an unsure nod.

Lily smiled. "Good. Now, I need you to wait there, for at least an hour or so, alright.

When you come out, I need you to go to the place where we have the Counsel meetings. I assume you remember where that is?" Another nod. "Right. Well, you can meet my friend, you remember, Mizune? She can take care of you."

"Lily, what about you? I don't want her I want you. Where are you going? I'm scared!" Tears started to form once more. Lily was about to counsel her sister.

A crash was heard outside. Lily fell into state of panic. "Eruka there's no time, get in!" Lily opened the trap door, where unwillingly Eruka climbed in. She shut the door and replaced the rug back on the surface.

Lily stood up and the door swung open to reveal a very young looking blonde, probably only around thirteen years of age. She began to prepare herself for an attack. Instead he spoke, "Oh God, Please bless my soul and the souls of those of whom I'm about to take. I beg of you, Oh Lord, to forgive the sins that they have committed. May their death be quick and be void of pain."

Therefore, it was and so it shall be. Soul number 100 and a new Death scythe had been born.

**That was chapter 4. Reviews would completely make my day. I'll beam everyone I don't know a smile if I get one!! BTW this was 8 pages, Kidd would be proud. R&R Criticism is appreciated. **


	5. Click this invite to the Evans Ball

**Hello! I'm back. Umm...this could be boring, I don't know. It's not boring to me, because I know what's going to happen. Just to let you know, I support no other pairings in this besides SoulxMaka (In later chapters.) **

**You may think I'm pointing fingers at some, but I'm just trying to keep them in character based on the manga. Honestly, I don't mind other pairings with other characters, but I don't necessarily like them. So, therefore, if you're a fan of something else, talk to the writers, not me. **

**ALL Right, now that that's out of the way, I hope you like it. **

**I own nothing.**

1 1/2 weeks later

An Evan's ball, what a magnificent view. It was nothing in which you could be passive. Any party held by the Evan's would be one of the largest events that one could experience when attending the vast and cultured region of Italy.

The floor, walls, staircases and stairwells would be polished to perfection, outshining the carefully, and professionally placed lights as well.

Waiters and waitresses expertly walked in and out of the swinging doors revealing new entrées and new specialties that each guest would await.

The cuisines were extravagant. They smelled, looked, and tasted with perfection; as they should with the hefty price they paid.

The champagne they served, expensive. However, it did null to outshine the specifically handpicked wine to accompany every course they served.

Music played for the whole mansion to hear. It was new and exotic. It differentiated from every other party that they had held. Although, it never affected the mature and rich atmosphere that the mansion had always seemed to posses.

Any person lucky enough to be invited to attend such a great gathering would be apart of a very lucky selected group of people. It was not an event you would want to miss.

"Do I have to?" The young white haired boy whined childishly as his older self fiddled with a very difficult tie.

"Soul, if I'm going you're going as well. Do you even know how to tie these? It's so difficult!" Wes struggled with the long piece of fabric, as Soul lay flat on his bed, sighing exasperated.

Usually before attending parties hosted by their parents, both got ready together in the same room. Neither knew why they had and still do it. Both supposed it was just a silent agreement.

"Why should I go? Could I not I just stay up here? Mother and Father don't want me there, I don't want to be there, it's all just for face; you look the same as me, so I don't see why it matters." Wes sighed and turned away from the mirror, giving Soul a look.

"Look, I know you hate the parties, and I know that you're just another wall flower, but it's not like I want to go either. Find yourself lucky, I have to play in front of everybody. No, I cannot just sit and relax like you; I work at parties. Do you know how annoying that is?" Wes glared, trying to get Soul to understand his dilemma.

"I sit in the corner at every single ball. Yes I may not be working, but if feels awkward when your the youngest person there." Soul retorted.

Wes grunted in aggravation as he still struggled with his tie. "However, dear brother, you're not stuck making polite conversation to every couple that approaches you. So suck it up." Soul stared at him.

"Well...well..." Soul started to struggle with his words, trying to find a sufficient comeback. "Mother and Father love you. You're not the one being ignored your whole life." Soul stubbornly turned his body toward the window while receiving another glare from his brother. Wes had been irritated this whole day with practicing constantly, getting ready, making last adjustments...

Wes turned around and flopped on the bed beside him. "You think you have a hard life?"

Soul flipped over with his back against the bed. "Yeah, I do."

Wes laughed, "You're kidding me! You, a hard life? HA! As if."

"Well, what makes you so sure? How is your life harder than mine?" Soul's eyes narrowed as his head faced toward his elder sibling.

Wes made his first statement. "Well at least you get freedom in your daily life. Every minute of my day is taken up by violin. My practices, performances, violin, violin, violin. It never ends. I barely get time to think."

"At least you get spoken to in your daily life. Besides you, no one talks to me. I feel like an outsider in my own home. It's like I was just some mistake and everyone's hoping if they just leave me alone I'll go away."

"At least people don't always want to listen to you play."

"At least people want to listen to what you can play."

"At least people don't constantly push compliments at you, when you yourself believe a word of them."

"At least people compliment you instead of constantly down grading you."

"At least you don't have this music business forced on your shoulders for the rest of you're life."

"At least you know what you're going to do for the rest of your life."

"At least our parents aren't using you."

"At least our parents think you're worth being used."

"You're depressing."

"You're stuck up."

"Under achiever."

"Over achiever."

"Girls will like me better."

"Only because you're older."

"You think that's why?"

"Well it can't be your personality."

"Are you trying to break me down trying to hit close to home?"

"Only if it's working." They stayed silent for a moment. The battle had gone from whose life sucked more, to which was the better person. Their insults resulted from trying to make their own lives sound as depressing as possible, to making the other feel as depressed as possible. These people needed help.

Suddenly Soul stood up from his spot on the bed and walked over to the mirror, fixing his tie. "Wes, do you still need help with yours?" Wes looked up from the bed then down at his miss-knotted tie.

He smiled. "Yeah, I guess I do." He stood up and walked over to Soul.

---------------

"Wow! BJ look at everything around us. I've never seen anything such as extravagant as this before!" The man named BJ spared a glance over to the excited blonde and nodded in agreement.

"How did you even get invited to such an...expensive looking party?" BJ raised an eyebrow and peered at all of the fashionably dressed guests.

"I know the wife of the family. We met when she visited Australia. It was about the time when I first started my post there a month ago.

Apparently, she came with her husband on some business affairs. She came out to relax with some coffee; we bumped into each other and bonded! I guess she wasn't kidding when she said her house would be easy to find." BJ nodded silently once again.

"You have a weird taste in people."

"ALL RIGHT!" The blonde said, ignoring his comment. She flexed a muscle to show that she was ready to prepare herself for battle. "I'm going to find myself a rich man that someday I'll marry, so that I can retire in luxury."

BJ sighed at the blondes antics, slightly jealous that she was about to look for a man other than himself. "Marie, you've just become a death scythe. Don't you think it's a little early to retire?"

"Not at all!" She laughed heartily and began to make her first giant step into the open door, BJ in tow.

"Ms. Mjölnir!" Cried the white haired brothers' mother. She elegantly walked through the crowds of people and crushed Marie in a gentle hug. (Oxy Moron) She placed a kiss on each cheek before she held her shoulders to look at her.

"I'm so glad you could make it! I was worried you wouldn't show up! It's so good to see you!" A look of excitement was evident on her face.

"It's good to see you too Audra."

"Come in, hurry, I really want to catch up!" Audra pulled Marie in completely ignoring BJ who had still yet to step into the room.

-----

An hour had passed and still no sign of Marie. He was beginning to feel slightly concerned over the abduction of his friend/date. He sighed and took another glass of wine from a nearby waitress.

There were so many people; he hardly felt this as the select few Marie had convinced him that were to be there. The room was packed but not as loud and noisy as most would think. It felt mature. BJ gave a glance to the entryway as people still found the room to continue to flood in. However, two new faces caught him by surprise.

The first boy was tall. By the looks a teenager around 14 or 15 years of age. His hair snowy white with teeth possessing the same sparkle. His eyes were narrow, his skin paler than most. Though, he was handsome no doubt.

An aura of maturity accumulated around him. Confidence struck against every step he took. All eyes followed the boy, but none, besides BJ, followed the small boy found behind him.

The child was an exact replica of the male before, except smaller. His small body and face was shrouded with innocence, though his eyes contradicted the statement. The child had nervousness in every step he took, almost hoping to be unnoticed.

BJ's whole line of vision darkened as the boy took the first step into the room. The music slowly faded into silence. The bodies around him disintegrated into specks of dust before him. His vision felt blurred.

The man's knees wobbled under him and the drink in his hand shook uncontrollably. It felt as though he and the young child were the only two in the room.

The overactive soul perception the man possessed had begun to take control. Between the audience and himself, their souls had remained their normal size, although the mere child had been diverse, unlike the rest.

It pumped. It was the only way to describe the phenomenon. The soul resembled a heart, pumping continuously surging power the veins of the unsuspecting child. Little by little, the soul tried to waste the excess power that it had constantly built. The soul looked as though it were about to combust.

BJ concentrated, hard. It resembled the soul of a weapon, like Marie, or Azusa. Gentle, though had a different form than other humans. But it constantly pumped and pumped, like a witches when they hadn't used their power often enough and they had to release the excess energy that they had created.

It was strange. His wavelength pulled toward no one, yet it radiated out of the child's body like a lightning bolt. BJ felt confused but a sense of fright came over him as he tried to push the picture away. Fear, he hadn't felt fear or endangerment in a long time.

Slowly his vision became focused. The music around him began to fade in, along with the voices of the various guests. His eyes became adjusted to the lighting, as if nothing happened.

Where was the child? The sudden question flooded his mind. A second ago, he came in and now he was gone.

"BJ!" Marie came running toward him, pulling Audra along, and in tow of the two was the taller of the white haired boys. "I feel so silly; I haven't even introduced you yet. BJ, this is Audra and her son Wes. Audra, Wes, this is my friend, BJ."

"How do you do." BJ politely shook Audra's hand while Wes from behind gave a small nod in acknowledgement.

"BJ, Wes plays the violin! Did you know that? He's supposed to be a genius at it! He's going to play tonight as well. I'm so excited!" Marie jumped giddily.

"That's very remarkable. A woman's going to appreciate that someday." BJ added politely.

"Yes, we're all very proud of Wes. He's the tiny spark in our family that helps us work day and night." Audra hugged her son affectionately, sighing at her own words.

"Something very funny happened today. It seemed I saw a boy just like him come into the same area. Ha ha, only he was a head shorter. Must have been my imagination." BJ commented slyly, attempting to open up a conversation to learn more about the unordinary boy.

Audra's face visibly fell, which hadn't gone unnoticed by the elder brother. "That must be Soul." Wes cut in, trying to keep the pleasant atmosphere. "He's my younger brother." He explained.

"Oh, I see. Does Soul play anything?" BJ pressed the subject on further.

"Yes he plays the piano, but he's currently out of an instructor. There was an accident and he isn't with us anymore." Wes continued.

BJ smirked under his mask, jackpot. "What a coincidence! Marie knows the piano. Don't you?" He turned toward the unsuspecting blonde, who almost spit out her drink at that moment. Upon seeing her reaction, he answered for her. "See? She's excited."

Once she grasped the situation, she gave a desperate glance over to BJ. "Excuse us for a moment." She tugged his arm away from the mother and son.

"What do you think you're doing?! I don't know anything about the piano, heck! I don't even know where I'm supposed to play it." She was fuming, as to be expected.

He began to try to calm her. "Relax. That Soul kid, there's something about him. He could be a weapon, or a threat. I couldn't tell which. I just need you to get close to him so that we can figure out what's going on inside him."

She seemed to suffice with the answer he had given her, but there was one more problem. "I still don't know how to play, what am I supposed to do when he expects a lesson from me or worse, a demonstration? How am I supposed to deal with that?" She had begun hyperventilating. Panic aroused in her brain, which made odd couples around them, stare.

"Calm down, people are staring. Look, try to get...Azusa. Have Azusa help you. She must know a thing or to about pianos. Nothing big is happening recently, just get her to take a break, go undercover for a few weeks, and then quit. Nothing to it." He made the whole process sound easy.

"Well then why don't you teach him?" She crossed her arms defensively and let out a huff.

He sighed, but a bright idea evolved. "You know," he started deviously; "there will probably be a lot of rich guests coming. Most maybe men, some probably..._single._" The word stuck out unlike the rest.

Marie gained her composure. "Fine, but only for the child, I hope you know. Boys seem to open up more around woman than large men." BJ gave a small smile. He had one.

They made their way back to the confused two. "Audra, wouldn't you think that it would be in good fun if I and a friend of mine tutored your son? When the lessons finish we could always sit and chat some more, don't you think?"

Audra's face brightened at the suggestion. "You really think so? That would be great, no, fantastic! Can you start tomorrow? No, how about the day after that?"

Marie nodded. "That sounds fine. When should I be here?"

"Lessons are everyday from 3-5 p.m." Audra explained. Marie groaned inwardly. Two hours of playing, and every day too? It sounded more like torture to her.

Outwardly, she smiled. "That sounds excellent."

"Oh! Speaking of practicing, I think it's about time you made everyone see the talent of my favorite boy." Audra happily turned back to Wes who hadn't been paying attention to the conversation at all, but by the expecting look on his mother's face, he guessed she wanted him to play something.

"Would you like me to make my performance now mother?"

"That would be splendid."

"Very well." He left the three to make adjustments to ready himself. Audra clapped in anticipation. The lights around everyone dimmed, though BJ could care less.

Music started to play but all he felt was the vibration against his ear. In his mind, all BJ was concerned about was the small boy to whom he had just found.

Apparently, the white haired child had made very good friends with an unsuspecting bystander. That bystander was quiet, never moved. Actually, it made friends with whoever stood beside them.

Yes, BJ could see it now. Soul and the wall looked nice together. Their contrasting colors somehow complimented each other.

**Well, I wanted to put more in, but I guess that will have to wait until next chapter. Did you like it, did you hate it, do you have no emotion whatsoever! Great! You can tell me, don't be shy. I like criticism too! Please review! **

**~Celestial**


	6. I don't Want to be Afraid

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything. If I did though...I wouldn't be writing this disclaimer and I would be writing a fanfiction for my own manga...now _that _would be cool. But...I don't own it, so it's not as cool.

_He felt like something fun was going to happen today, something exciting, something...__**cool. **_

Soul was getting a new piano teacher. Finally, today was the first day with new instruction and new pieces to play. Joy. Soul was less than enthused.

As of that very day, the lessons would be held in his own home. There was no need to make an extra trip anywhere, lucky for him.

All he had to do was walk down the large stairwell, turn at the picture of the oddly shaped bird/chicken/octopus (Modern art), and pass through the halls making two right turns and one left. It had been the second door to the right.

It was three p.m. already and he sat in the new, empty room, waiting for his new teacher to arrive and introduce him or herself. Soul gave another tired glance at his watch; correction: It was 3:33 now.

Soul sighed in aggravation. The young pianist had been by himself for a while and beginning now...Soul had waited for roughly a half an hour.

The doors swung open violently. "Sorry I'm late!" She wailed. Marie ran into the room; tears streamed down her face in aggravation, while an annoyed, black haired woman followed close behind her.

Soul turned toward the two, which made them both pause in their steps. Neither of the more mature persons in the room felt intimidated by each other's sharp gaze, but both kept silent, watching each other's every move.

Marie had a look of uncertainty in her features, not sure, why everyone had taken such a pause. Thoughts ran through all of their minds.

'Why do I have two piano teachers? Do they think that I'm 'that' mentally disabled?' He inwardly sighed at the thought. 'It wouldn't be the first time.'

'I can't believe Marie dragged me here. When's dinner?'

'Why is everything silent? Did I do something? How can silence be so loud? Wait, look at his face Marie!' Marie cleared her mind of unneeded thoughts and cleared her throat.

The two mature of the three turned toward her. She took a careful step close to Soul. Marie scrutinized the young child with bewilderment.

"Whoa. I've never met you before, but I have no idea why they never bothered to notify me." Marie continued to stare in amazement, while Soul shifted uncomfortably under her stare. He wondered slightly on her sudden change of attitude.

This woman, he hadn't seen before either, and now, he was kind of hoping that he never had. She inspected his manner; a small smile crept onto her face, which made Soul even more curious toward her.

After a few moments, she took a few steps back, and completed her investigation.

Soul swallowed. She was just another person to criticize him in one way or another. Ah, well. It wasn't as if he hadn't been used to it.

She opened her mouth and he outwardly cringed at the sight. "You. are. so...CUTE!" She took his head and crushed him into her chest, hugging him hard.

Azusa raised an eyebrow toward her, but said nothing. Soul, on the other hand, turned completely rigid.

Out of everything, she could have said; he did not expect this. Even though he was pleased that she didn't criticize him, he immediately started to struggle in her embrace. Sure he didn't want to be judged, but that didn't mean he wanted to be hugged either.

His flailing continued, but it had no avail against Marie's abnormally strong biceps. She squealed and swung him around in her inner Marie wonderland.

After a few minutes, Soul's face began to turn purple. He turned toward the dark haired woman, still struggling. "...me..." His hand reached out toward her, begging for a savior.

Azusa replied with a steady gaze before she sharply turned her head away from him. He blanched. These women were crazy.

One was a drama queen blonde and the other...had a death wish for him? He couldn't figure it out, but one thought stayed clear in his mind, 'this should not be normal.' Honestly, at this point, when he could hardly find the space to breath, he would have preferred the ruler slapping old man than this.

His stomach suddenly twisted. _Mr. Payne..._he felt so confused. Even after it has been about a month, the gory image had still felt fresh in his mind. A stroke of nausea aroused within him. He hoped this woman would stop swinging him soon!

Ten minutes later things began to mellow out. Soul cleared his throat while straightening his suit, a blush evident on his cheeks. He sat down at the piano bench, waiting for instructions.

"Well Soul, I believe introductions are in order." Azusa took the lead immediately. Soul nodded. "My name is Yumi Azusa. You will call me Prof. Azusa." Soul nodded once more, than turned to the eye-patched blonde.

"I'm Marie Mjolnir. You can call me Marie." She smiled pleasantly. Her whole aura changed into a mature adult. Creepy...

"Now then Soul, how about you can show us what you are able to play, then we can retire to the library for some cakes and tea." Soul stared the black-haired woman in disbelief. Tea, cakes, and piano lesson would never come together in the same sentence.

However, not in the mood to complain, he nodded to the offer. Soul opened his Italian attaché and pulled out a couple of random music pieces. He handed them to Azusa.

"Here. Pick from these which you would like to hear." Azusa took the sheets and looked them over. She peered at him over the papers.

"What are you trying to pull? C'mon, give me your _real_ music." Soul stared at her. He did not seem to understand what she was getting at. Marie cut the tension.

"Soul just give her your real music. No need to make a deal out of it." She smiled at him goodheartedly.

"I don't understand. What are you saying? That is my music." He didn't look as if he were joking; he only continued to glare at the two women.

"Alright fine. Play this." She handed him a random paper from the pile, and attempted to look unimpressed. Soul held it and nodded. The piece she had chosen was Prokofiev Piano Concerto No. 2, only the finale. One of his favorites.

(**A/N: **For those who don't know what that is, you should look it up. It's kind of what I imagine Soul playing in some parts. Look it up on Youtube. It's Prokofiev Piano Concerto No. 2 finale- Konstantin Shamray. He's really good in the way he plays. It's only about nine minutes.)

After a moment of silence he began to play.

----Twelve Minutes Later---

The three sat in the library, all on the long expensive couch located in the middle of the room. Marie and Azusa were seated gracefully on the sides while Soul sat inelegantly in the middle, teacup in hand.

Azusa spoke quietly, breaking the awkward silence. "You played well Soul Eater. We should pick some harder music next time."

Small murmurs of 'that'd be good.' or 'we should do that.' were heard to the right of her. Silence ensued. This would be difficult.

Azusa inwardly sighed. She could feel herself breaking under the tension, however also felt slightly proud. It surprised her on how the silence hadn't broken Marie one bit. She spared a glance toward the blonde. Oh! Surprise. She was ushering Azusa to follow her.

Azusa nodded to Marie. They both stood up and walked to the corner of the room, leaving the confused Soul behind.

"What?" Azusa inquired indifferently. Marie paused before sparing one more glance to the unspeaking child.

"I Can't Take It!" She whispered to her black-haired friend with force.

"Oh, so you were breaking. I should have guessed." Azusa crossed her arms, all pride in her blonde friend lost.

"I just don't get it." Marie continued, ignoring Azusa's comment. "I feel like I'm being suffocated. Suffocated Azusa!" Marie plead to her friend making odd--gestures with her hands.

"Calm down Marie, we only have," she took a moment to look down at her watch. She sweat dropped, "45 minutes." Marie felt as if she were to faint.

"You can leave if you want." Both heads turned to the lone child on the couch in surprise. "If you have no reason to be here, just leave. I don't need you to waste any more time than you have." He set his teacup down, and swiftly turned his head toward the two.

"Go." With brisk steps, Soul walked passed the two and down the halls. He made his way back to the piano room intending on getting some more practice in.

_________________________________________________________

The piano was beautiful. He couldn't have fathomed a more outstanding instrument. How it felt, how it spoke, he loved it, but also inside, Soul hated it.

He drove past all of the notes on the page, riding faster and faster down the highway. By the time he was able to catch a glimpse of a passing note, his fingers and mind had already played five notes ahead. The pages seemed to turn by themselves, and he loved it.

It hurt him, to play. It hurt him, and he loved it. Lately his whole body felt like it was going to explode, as he delivered the next notes on the page. Power surged through him, he didn't feel like the weak and pathetic boy that he knew he was.

He didn't feel as though his mind and body were about to break at any moment, but it hurt, and it was painful. He felt nostalgic; that this pain brought his sadistic mind brought such happiness.

_That was pretty rude. _

_**What are you talking about?**_

_The ladies were only trying to be nice. You could have at least started up some polite conversation. _

_**Shut up. I don't want to hear it from you. Now if you would please just be quiet, I'm trying to concentrate. **_

_Oh, are you? How quaint. You never seem to concentrate on your music, now that's all you want to do. Such a funny boy. _

_**I'm not in the mood for you.**_

_If you were I would be quite surprised. _

Soul growled and pounded the keys harder in frustration. He mentally cursed at himself for letting his mind have such a split personality.

_**Go invade someone else's mind. Your unwanted here. **_

_It's quite the opposite. You wouldn't be able to handle reality whatsoever if I were not around to help you. _

_**You have mental issues. **_

_May I remind you whose head we're both in? If someone here were to have mental issues, I know it couldn't be me. I'm in __**your**__ mind remember, I can only think __**your**__ thoughts. _

_**Then go harass another section of my brain, one that I won't be using. Have no fear; I only use around 5% of it. You have a glorious 95% to choose from. **_

_You're always so cold toward me, Soul. Let's be friends. It would be better to make alliances with your own mind, than enemies. _

Abruptly Soul ceased playing. Swiftly he stood up from the piano.

_Where are we going now, Evans? To your room, so that you can handle all of your own little problems by your lonesome self? Please, the biggest problem you could solve by yourself would be--_

_**Shut up. **_

He could see the small imp smirk to himself as Soul laced through the long hallways, retreating back to his room. He made it to the main stairwell.

It was 5:30; there was still almost an hour until dinner. Well...maybe he could go back to the library, catch up on some reading.

-----

The halls in which he walked became darker and darker. It almost felt ghostly. Soul searched for the dark brown door that in small golden letters had 'Biblioteca' written on it.

After much confusion Soul finally found the door. Cautiously he pushed it open.

It was quiet when he entered the room, dimly lit as well. He heard soft breathing but accepted it as his own.

Soul glanced around. It was dark; he couldn't make out a bookshelf from a couch. Using both of his hands, he let his fingers wander around the vacant wall in search of a light switch.

"Where is it?" He mumbled to himself.

_Did you check on the other side?_

_**I'm about to...**_

Suddenly the lights from above turned on. Soul spun on his heels, startled. No one was there. He spared the lights a glance and then the room around him, brows furrowed together.

"Stupid electricity." He mumbled under his breath, turning away.

"What was that?" His head whipped around, to reveal his father, standing next to the light switch.

"Father!" Soul cried, nearly having a heart attack. "I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you. I-I just..."

"What are you doing in here?" Soul gulped. His father had always been very intimidating just by looking at him. The man was 6"1', but looked taller. Even though he possessed the same snowy white hair as his two sons, he wore it slicked back, making it look almost dark gray.

His attire, the same as his sons' as well, a regular black Armani suit, with Italian shoes and black socks to match. Of course, to make his stand out amongst the others, he wore a red dress shirt instead of a white one. Yes, Soul did spend the first eight years of his life, questioning whether his father had been a vampire.

"I-I wanted to read...sir." He said quietly, trying his hardest to mask his fear. "I'm sorry." He gave a short bow and attempted to leave the room.

_You handled that well, for a coward. Afraid of his own father. _

His hand grasped the handle and he was about to push the door open, to take his leave, when...

"Stay." Soul paused, the word echoed through his mind.

That voice, that tone, he hadn't heard it in over a month. It scared him to death, to think that he was hearing that certain voice once more.

_Ha, I wonder what he could want from a brat like you. _

_**I don't think I want to know. **_

Silently Soul closed the door. His back still to his father, Soul questioned, "Yes, father?"

"Come here." The command was soft, but demanding.

Soul walked calmly toward him, refusing to meet his gaze. The father said nothing, for a moment, contemplating his words.

"I've come to the conclusion," he stated finally, "that you're nothing like your brother." Soul rolled his eyes inwardly. _Oh really? What gave you that idea? _"Wes is smart, talented, polite, handsome, but you-" he paused. "You, are selfish, a pain, a burden, and a brat. I wonder if it was your mother and I raised who you to be like this"

Soul felt a small stir of anger arise in him, but kept it to himself. _You self-centered bastard, you didn't raise me at all. _

The father continued to stare and Soul tried to direct his gaze on anything in the room but him. After a moment of letting his eyes dart around, his eyes landed on a lone object settled on his father's desk.

"You're drunk." Soul stated evenly. At most times, he would usually stay silent, but on this occasion he made an effort to state the obvious.

His father looked less than pleased. He walked over to the large wooden desk and pulled up a large bottle of wine.

"So what if I am?" He raised the bottle and chucked it against a bystander column angrily.

_He had a rough day. _Soul concluded. Just like the times before this, it had always been the same. _It's tiring and unfulfilling at work, he drinks to get over it, somewhere along the line I somehow become stuck in the same room as he, and then he would say..._

"I hate you." Soul remained silent, accepting the criticism.

_Well, that must have been difficult to contemplate. He could have said loathe, despise, abhor, detest, but in the end he said hate. This is hilarious. However, oddly enough, this is coming out of nowhere isn't it? _

Soul ignored the imp's comments in the back of his mind, waiting for his father to continue.

"I loathe, despise, abhor, I detest you."

_Looks like I spoke too soon. _A pause. _Hey, Soul. You two must be getting closer, huh? This is the most he's said to you in the past month! _

"I have to hit something."

_Soul, he's goanna hit you. I wonder what you did. Oh, this is interesting! _Soul watched as the imp, sighed blissfully and sat with excitement inching on his face. Soul gave a glance around the room before he replied offhandedly to the small imp.

_**If you're me, he's going to be hitting you too, whether you feel it or not. **_The delightful smile soon fell however.

_Even though I would love to watch him spill your blood and guts, I could share with you a little secret. _The imp sighed, loosing the enjoyment he once had to see his body be beaten.

_**What do you want to say, demon? **_Soul received his father's first blow, but kept his head in the back of his mind. He would much rather ignore the pain by talking to his annoying inner self, than be attentive to each blow he was receiving.

_That looks like it hurts. _The imp replied, ignoring the question that he had asked.

_**It does. **_

_It looks like he's trying to kill you._

_**It seems so.**_

_Do you think that he will? _

_**I wouldn't be surprised. But I doubt it.**_

_Why?_

_**He would be caught, obviously. Lucky for me, the police aren't biased on who the murderer is. Murder is murder. Well, at least I would like to think so. **_

_Then, you're just going to take it? Let him beat you as long as you aren't killed._

_**That's the plan. **_

_You could fight back. _

_**That's impossible. **_

_Why is that?_

_**I'm weak and pathetic, remember? Are you crazy? How do you expect me to go against someone more than twice my size? I'm powerless. **_

_You have power; you just haven't found it yet. ___

_**Are you trying to tell me I have my own special, Eye of the Tiger? **_

_In a matter of speaking, no. _

_**Are you insane?**_

_No, but I can be. _

_**This is getting us nowhere. **_

The demon stayed silent. The silence grew steadily and Soul began to wonder if he heard his own reply. He could feel the pain coming back into his body, the pain that he had just begun to ignore.

Black clouded his vision. Whether it was from his eyes or somewhere else he couldn't tell, all he could see was black. It felt like blood, riding down his legs, neck, and torso, but it was black, so he knew it couldn't be.

His father towered over him, evidently still not satisfied.

_Leave it to me._

_**What?**_

_Just stay here, in the back of your mind. Don't pay attention to anything else. Close your eyes._

_**What are you planning? **_

_Do you want to lie here, weak and pathetic, or do you want to stand up and fight?_

"I'd rather lie here." He murmured aloud, without really meaning to. He felt his body and mind drift into unconsciousness, as he watched the demon approach him. He felt breath tickle the inside of his ear, at the back of his inner subconscious.

_Do you always want to be so afraid? _

Soul began to feel himself drift into nothingness, and the demon was no longer there.

_**More than anything, I don't want to live in fear. **_

_Then, I can take care of that._

_**Are you insane?**_

_Only when you want me to be. _

He could hear screams, faintly. It occurred to him that he no longer felt pain.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Okay....well, That took for-ev-er to update. Everything was supposed to happen completely differently, but, I changed my mind at the last second, and now this boring chapter came up. Oh well, I figure people are probably reading this just to waste time, so I'm not going to dwell on it. **

**ANYWHO---It would be really super special awesome if you could review.**


	7. ChocolateVanilla Swirl

**So-Here's the next chapter. It's kind of boring, but, whatever. We'll live, It'll get exciting, eventually, maybe. Anyway you should read, then review. All the cool people are doing 't you want to be cool? **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

At the edges of the nothingness that clouded his vision, he began to see absence. No, forget it. It was not absence; it was color, all of the colors of the rainbow, mixed and piled together. It was white, a white light. A light...a bright, blinding light. That was all he could see.

Soul attempted to close his eyes to no avail. Pain, he felt pain. Wait, no he did not. He felt as if he should, but he did not.

He was not dead, he did not know how he knew, but he did. He was very much alive, inside and out and everywhere else. But then again, if he was alive, why was his mind fully awake and functioning in such an unconscious state?

He felt confused, tangled. He felt nothing but confusion, almost delirious. What had happened? He did not remember. His mind felt completely blank.

Blank? Now the boy was not thinking at all. Great, now he felt stupi--

Wait. There was something. Something out of reach. Noise, he could hear. Noise as if someone was speaking to him. It was far out into a distance. If felt so close, yet so far away.

But the sound he heard, it felt so pulling, so...how could he describe it?

He wanted to listen, but he could not understand a word of what the person, or so he hoped, was saying. It felt jumbled. It felt like...he knew the words but not the meaning; he wanted to understand but was too tired to sort the syllables and sounds out in his head.

Think. At least attempt to think. What was he saying?

Soul concentrated. "Mdmp nlf dlnon da lvs n the unconscious state. Though the conscious is aware of everything that is happening around them, the unconscious takes over their actions and reactions.

The same answer could be the same for people that have suffered traumatic or scarring events. The said person could feel no emotion toward the situation because the conscious refused to believe or soak in the memory or situation in full.

That could be the reason why some people feel apathy or no emotion toward deaths, accidents, or any other type of life changing events.

However unconsciously, they are aware of everything that happened, and the unconscious has accepted the information first, waiting for the conscious to access it and go through the process of realization and acceptance." It was one of his self-help books.

Soul paused in his breath. Who would be reading one of his books, aloud as well? Soul tried to turn his head toward the voice. "Soul!" The voice exclaimed, relieved. "You're awake!"

The book was set down and Soul looked upon his brother. Wait, when did he open his eyes? He could not recall. "How are you feeling?"

Soul looked around his surroundings. Everything was white. They put in excessively much color, literally. (1).

The room he was in was big, sort of. It was not normal patient size, but it was not like his bedroom either. A couple feet away from his bed, three chairs sat quietly against the wall, next to a plastic plant in the corner. To his right, around 11 ft away from his bed, the all white door had been closed tightly. He frowned. There were no windows.

"Soul?" His head snapped back to his brother, who was trying to get his attention.

"Why am I here?" Soul asked honestly. A pause. "More importantly, why are _you _here?" Wes looked at him with concern.

"Can't you remember what happened?" Wes asked. The book he was reading now set down on the small side-table. Soul spared a glance to him, and then searched back into his memory. Oh, that is right. The demon...he remembered.

"No I don't remember. Care to enlighten me?" He felt slightly scared at the conclusion that they came up with; hopefully it had nothing to do with him...

"We really aren't sure ourselves. Maybe an attack? We do not know. Father had these cuts, a lot of them, in fact.

He and you were unconscious when one of the house cleaners found you. I looked in the room the other day, it was a disaster. All of the books were torn off of the shelves; all of the wine glasses, shattered; there were actually holes in the walls." Soul could tell that Wes almost seemed excited about this.

"Father was all cut up, but you were only covered with bruises, other than that, not a scratch. We figured that you had an asthma attack, when it happened." Wes let the thought wonder away. Soul gave an inward sigh of relief.

"Oh, I see. How long have I been asleep?"

"Only a couple of days, nothing to worry about." Wes gave a small shrug to enhance the mask of his aloofness.

Soul nodded. "So why are you here?" Wes's eyes showed slight alarm, but it died away quickly.

"Well, Mum cancelled my lessons, seeing father's condition. I was fairly bored. Yeah, so I just thought, you know that I would stay here, until you woke up." Wes avoided contact with Soul's eyes, his head turning in every other direction. Soul noticed his slight distress and changed the subject.

"What book were you reading? I think I recognize it--."

"Oh," Wes picked the book up off of the side table and held it up. "It the Conscious, Unconscious, and the Line In-between. I found it on the table next to your bed." Soul opened his mouth to reply, but the door swung open in interruption, to reveal Dr. Me standing in the doorway, clipboard in hand. Her usually let loose hair was tied up in a ponytail, and her usual indifference was now a glowing smile.

"Ah, Soul, you're awake. I am glad to see you are up. How are you feeling?" Soul only slightly surprised about her being more happy than usual, answered normally.

"I've been better, but physically, I suppose I feel fine." She gave a nod.

"Good, good." She turned toward Wes. "I'm sorry dear, could you leave the room for a moment. I need to take Soul's blood, and give him a few shots. Would you mind waiting outside?" Wes gave a faint nod, and left the room.

Dr. Me walked over to a cabinet in the room and pulled out a needle. From her pocket, she retrieved a familiar black medicine. A comfortable silence engulfed them.

"Soul," Started Dr. Me, beginning some polite, interrogative, conversation, "how have those dreams you've been having coming along? Are you still having them?" Soul stared at her, before quickly recovering.

"Well, now it's almost every other night, but..." Soul stared into one of the corners of the room.

"But..." Dr. Me edged on.

"But that isn't what's scaring me anymore." He held out his arm waiting for Dr. Me to inject the medicine.

"Oh?" She pursued. "What's bothering you Soul. I'm your doctor, you can tell me _anything._" Soul felt scared to answer but nodded anyway.

"You remember, when I told you a symptom was Schizophrenia, right?" Dr. Me nodded as she began to inject the medicine into Soul's arm.

"Well, I agree with you. There is no way that could be a solution to anything, because, then it would be all in my head, but it is not. It is real; it crossed the line over to reality.

I feel like it could be another personality of myself, but, I know it is not. It cannot be. There's something inside me, and..." His voice trailed.

"Soul." He turned toward her, who had just finished putting away the needle. Her head was turned away from his, but it felt like she was staring straight through him. "Do you believe in magic?" She turned toward him, eyes fixated on his. The simple childish question did not sound as much when she said it.

"Magic?" He questioned unsure. She nodded. "Magic is for children, Dr. Me. Don't mistake me for my looks, for I am no child." She smiled mildly, sitting back down in the chair beside him.

"I know that you aren't a child, Soul. I know that very well. I took some of your blood, as you know." Soul nodded at her to continue. "And as I went over some tests, I found something very unusual. Soul, you're a warlock." WHIPLASH!

"Are you crazy? I thought you were a doctor, not a...look I am not into that kind of 'religion' alright. So if you could just--"

"We are not a religion." Her eyes were cold, as she stared into his red ones. Her smiling features were long gone from her face. Soul felt intimidated.

"You could describe us, as...a higher power, if you will." A higher power? Did someone give her too many happy pills? How many blocks away is the insanity ward from here?

Dr. Me noticed the look of disbelief and the skeptical eye of the nine year- old. However soon enough a small smile crept to his features. "Oh yeah?" She could tell he was amused. "Prove it." Who knows, if she could prove it he would believe her. Besides, it would be fun to see her try.

She gave a small smile and shook her head, "I can't." He sighed and laid back into his pillows.

"Why not?" He tried to make the question sound playful, to cover the slight disappointment he felt.

"Since I am a witch, if I were to use my power I would be captured." She said simply, like it was the easiest thing to understand in the world.

"Why is that?" Soul was fully curious now. Do not misunderstand him, he did not believe her for one second...he was just curious.

"There are some people that think we are dangerous. If they found out that I was a witch, they would kill me." She told him forwardly.

"They? Who are _they_?" She smiled at how interested he was.

"I thought you didn't believe me." She chuckled inwardly on how his eyes shot up as well as his body.

"I didn't believe you--I mean I don't. I was just humoring you. That's all." He crossed him arms and looked away.

Then he paused for a moment. "However," she looked at him with interest, "If what you're saying is true--not saying that I believe you or anything," he assured her. She nodded for him to continue. "Is there anyway that you could prove that I am a _warlock_?"

He stared at her sideways, and she smiled again in return. "Possibly." He nodded and sat up completely.

"What do you need me to do?" Mind you, he was just playing along, he was not _hopeful_ or anything.

"Absolutely nothing." She spoke. He grupily crossed his arms and leaned his back against the white wall. "You told me about those dreams you've been having." He stared at her, wanting desperately for her to speak.

"You also told me about your Schitzophrenia." he nodded ushering her to continue. "And about your other 'personality' if you will." Soul felt himself struggling inside because of how long she was taking.

"That demon of yours, wants you to use your power." She told him. He wanted to believe her. He felt a swell in his chest, desperately he hoped--stop. What had the demon said to him? That was it.

_You have power; you just have not found it yet. ___

Power, in him? He needed to know more. "What kind of...power?"

She smiled, knowing that she had gotten him hooked. Dr. Me scooted closer to the white-haired child, and lowered her head only a few centimeters away from his ear. Her breath tickled his skin as she whisperred, "The kind that's so great, if you don't use it soon..." she took a short pause, "you'll burst."

By the second he blinked, she was already across the room, taking off her plastic gloves and washing her hands.

"Burst?" He questioned. She turned for a moment and nodded. "As in--explode?"

She smiled. "That would be the meaning. When you have not used your magic in a while, it starts to get built up in your system.

Magic is almost like energy. The mitochondria in the cells constantly make more energy for your body to use. Magic is almost the same. Your body constantly makes more and more magic to use, and your soul pulsates it through your body.

However, once it is built up too much, your body almost forces you to use it, in small ways. As in, your body could start to shake, or in your case, maybe your music sheets could turn by themselves when you play the piano, or possibly-- "she took a pause, as smirk evident on her features.

"It could come out in self defense." He finished for her. She nodded in agreement.

"Like the other night, perhaps?" He ignored her comment.

"Well what am I supposed to do?" He asked frantically, "If I use any of my--powers--won't I be caught as well? More importantly, what happens if I do get caught? What is supposed to happen now? Are you going to tell my parents, will I live underground?"

She opened her mouth to stop him, but the door that swung open did the job for her.

__________________________________________________________

Marie and Azusa walked down the hospital halls searching for the nearest elevator. The blonde wore a white summer dress, while her opposite wore the usual black slacks and dark maroon long sleeved shirt.

The girl with the eyepatch held a small boquet of flowers in hand.

"I still don't see why we had to bring him flowers." Azusa sighed gently, still searching for the so-called elevator.

"It's only natrual." Marie huffed toward her more negative friend. "He's in the hospital after all." She crossed her arms in a very un-ladylike fashion. Azusa sighed again.

"Yes, I know that very well, but I don't see why we had to go through 6 flower shops, just to find him the perfect one, just to settle for the hospital's gift shop down the hall." Azusa scolded her, irritated.

"Just because it turned out that the hospital had the nicest flowers, doesn't mean you have to by grumpy about it." Marie snapped pressing the newly found elevator's button.

"Anyway, there's also a reason why were here other than visiting, aren't I correct?" Marie looked away slightly, the doors to the elevator opened and they both walked in.

"Yeah." Marie answered quietly.

"I remember you told me that BJ had thought that Soul might have been a weapon, so that's why he wanted us to watch over him, since he was in such a high class family." Marie gave a small nod in agreement, so Azusa continued on.

"Of my understanding of the situation, I would have to believe that the father would be abusive, and his weapon form came out in self defense." Marie stayed silent, and Azusa continued.

"By the marks on his stomache and arms, it would have to be a blade of some sort. I did some digging around but found that no family member had been a weapon before him.

I went back generation after generation on all sides and still found nothing. So my theory is that he is a cold weapon, a weapon that came into being without the blood of the weapon passed down, but aquired out of nowhere.

Therefore, I concluded, that he would have to be a scythe. The only form that can be either passed down or cold.

It is the only kind of cold weapon form that there is. So I brought some medicine with me to induce--MARIE! Are you even listening to me? Do you understand the circumstances here? This is going to be life changing for him, aren't you even going to pay attention--?" Azusa was beyond irritated with the blonde.

"I know already! Azusa--" Her voice dropped. Azusa sighed, and gave an effort to comfort the blonde.

"Look, Soul's fine. You do not have to worry. His scythe form came out in self-defense, remember? So there isn't any need to worry." The elevator stopped on the 22nd floor. "C'mon let's go. If he remember's what happened, then we have a lot of explaining to do, don't we?"

Marie smiled at her black-haired friend and followed. They stared at the room numbers looking for the right one. In the distance, Marie saw a white haired boy sitting outside one of the hospital room. She smiled widely.

"SOUL!" She cried. Panic washed over the boy's face. Using her feet to go as fast as she could, Marie lept across the hallway and tackled the boy into a literally breath-taking hug.

Azusa followed quietly behind, paying mind to the other patients. "Marie." She said finally, "That isn't him." Marie reluctantly let him go and took a step back.

"Hey!" She cried in annoyance. "You are not Soul." She pouted, but quickly smiled at a sudden thought. "He's much cuter than you." She emphasized by pinching his cheeks.

In pair with her abnormally strong biceps, Marie also possessed abnormally strong hands (and fingers). Lucky for Wes.

Wes slapped her hands away, irritated, and rubbed his cheeks. "Did I ever say I was him? Besides, what brings you here? I remember your face at the balls," he turned his eyes toward Azusa, "but not yours. Wes Evans pleased to meet you." He held out his and and she shook it.

"Yumi Azusa charmed." She replied shortly. "We are Soul's piano teachers. We came to see how he was doing. Obviously something happened." Wes nodded.

"Yeah, don't you remember?" Marie asked. "You were there. When BJ said that I could instruct him."

He barely spared her a glance. "No." Marie's eyes narrowed as she rolled up her sleeves. "Why you cocky bastard!" Azusa held the back of her collar as Marie struggled to take a grab at Wes, who had calmly sat back down.

"If you want to see Soul," Wes said to the two. "he's in there with the doctor right now. I imagine that they would be about done. Marie perked and Azusa nodded.

"Thank you." Azusa nodded and swung open the door.

The room was a rainbow of colors all mixed together, white, she noticed. As she glanced around, she saw a pretty blonde in a white jacket at the sink, drying her hands, while Soul was sitting upright, head turned towards them.

"Miss Marie, Azusa, what are you doing here?" Soul asked in surprise.

Marie filled in the question. "We came to visit you, silly. You think we would have noticed when you didn't show up for the lesson." She smiled at him and set his flowers down on the side table next to the bed.

Soul's gaze followed Dr. Me as she left the room. "Soul how are you feeling?" His gaze snapped back to the perky blonde. He forced a smile.

"Fine." Azusa raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Really?" Marie pressed, "you've been out for days."

Soul nodded once more. "Yeah, a few bruises but I'm fine."

Marie smiled in understanding, for which Soul was grateful. Azusa cut in.

"Soul, do you remember anything?" Marie sweat dropped. Azusa, always right to the point.

Soul shook his head quickly. "None. Not at all. All I know is what Wes told me."

"Yeah. The incident I think has us all confused." Marie nodded in agreement. "But Azusa and I have our suspiscions on what had happened." She smiled.

A wave of panic over looked Soul's features, but he hid it well. "Oh really?" He masked his overwhelming interest. "Do tell."

Marie sat in the available seat next to him and Azusa remained standing. "Soul," Marie said gently. "How do you and your father get along?" Soul swalled a large lump in his throat.

"Fine." He lied in a one-worded answer. "Why do you ask?" Azusa shook her head toward Marie. Shit...She knew he was lying.

"Soul," Marie placed her hand on his forearm. "You can tell us." Soul scoffed and pulled his arm away from hers. He crossed his arms defensively and stared at the colorfully white wall.

"Even if something did happen, which it didn't, why would I tell you? I barely know you, both of you." His voice felt and sounded demanding. True, they had not known each other long, but to Marie it felt like she knew him so much already.

"We know what happened. If you don't want to know what occurred in the library then that's fine, don't come crying to us when you find out later." Azusa said coldly and turned to leave.

"Azusa!" Marie called, startled.

"What?" The indifference on her face made it hard to speak.

"Stay, please?" Azusa let her shoulders drop slightly as she took her spot, again standing behind Marie.

"Soul," Marie started, for the third time. "I know you don't know us very well, but to tell you the truth, we aren't really piano teachers." Soul chuckled at the statement.

"You really think I didn't know? Are you kidding? Your whole aura screamed, 'I'm anything but a piano instructer.' Please you didn't even notice that in the piece I added a fermata to the last note on the deceptive cadence." Marie gave a glance to Azusa and she shrugged.

"So why didn't you say anything?" Soul smirked at her face.

"You don't lay down all of your good cards on the first turn, Miss Marie." She huffed and crossed her arms.

"Either way Soul, as we said earlier, we know what happened." Azusa interuppted. Soul glanced at her, but said nothing. "We know that Soul, you aren't entirely human." Her words pierced him. They knew. Shit. They _knew._ What was going to happen? Dr. Me's words sounded more and more real, and now he fully believed them. He was a--.

"Soul, are you alright?" He turned to Marie's worried face. _It is fine. _He assured himself. _Just, play it cool. _

"Honestly, I have no Idea what you are talking about." He watched as Marie's face fell slightly.

"I know this might be hard for you to talk about, but, both Azusa and I have suspicisions that your father could be abusing you." Soul stayed silent and refused to look at them. "Can you tell us the truth, are we right?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" He asked tiredly.

"We think that a power of yours came out in self defense, and that was how your father got hurt." Shit shit shit shit shiiiiiiit. They knew. Now he was so sure of it. How the heck did they even find out! Panic ran straight through his veins and by the look on their faces, he could tell that they already knew, that he knew.

"There are schools for this, Soul." Marie said brightly. "I used to go to one in fact. Where Weapons and Meisters, that is what we call the people who weild the weapons, go and hunt witches to become a deathscythe." Oh GREAT! This was going to be his death sentence. A school dedicated to hunt him down.

She went to one of those schools. So this was what Dr. Me was talking about. These are the people that were going to kill her, and by the looks of it, him too. Say your prayrs now, or you might never get the chance.

Marie smiled at his distress. So, she guessed, that he did remember what had happened. She sighed; he must have been so scared about everything. Look, he is even panicking now.

She laughed out loud, making both of the two in the room look strangly at her. "Soul, there is no need to worry. I'm sure your parents will be fine with you going to the school, under your circumstances."

She was not going to kill him here, no, just take him to the school where there are thousands of students that can do it for them. He felt like she was assigning him a death sentence. "Soul," she gushed, "you're one of a kind."

Sure, that gave him oodles of comfort. "I'm so excited! This is the first time I've met a cold weapon!"

She knew he was a warlock, she just said--wait what?!

Huh?

. _____________________________________________________

**Hey, hey, hey...So this is chapter 7. You know what, yes, Soul **_**does**_** read self-help books. Because he's cool like that. He wants mental self-improvement. **

**(1)**Okay, So I'm thinking that some people will be confused and others won't. What some/most people don't know is that in reality black is none of the colors, and white is all of them. Okay? If you don't get why, just ask, and I'm happy to explain. So anyway....

**The chapter title means, like, Warlock and Weapon and It's my favorite ice cream. And I don't want people freaking out at me, because I made him a warlock, because later I will explain, for those who hadn't already got, why he isn't. . **

**You should Read-And if you are down here you must have already did- ANDReview. Some people don't know how a: Good Job or for others :THAT SUCKED- Makes someones day. And Really, I mean both. REVIEW!**


	8. Just Schizophrenia That's all

**Whoa, I can't believe this story is back. How long. A year? I really don't know. Probably more than a year. Wowee. I really don't know what to say, other than I completely came out of this story, and lost interest in it. But, somehow I was revived. Who knows how. So, here's the next chapter. And in the begining, when I was planning this out, I kinda wanted Eruka and Soul to be together. I got the pairing in my head, and I was all, yes. Oh well. NOT doing it. lol. So...Umm. I know Soul is out of character for his kid, or it seems that way anyway. But once he meets Maka, I think he'll be a lot more in character. Also, another note, I know people really want Maka to show up, but just telling you, while he's a kid, he's not going to meet her. Whatsoever. Sorry to burst any bubbles. **

**I'm not even Half way done with this story. It's still in it's little diapers. Goo goo goo~~. O.o, . AND HERE WE GO! **

* * *

Ever since Soul had woken up, the hospital room had remained void of all human life other than himself, and the small fly, currently residing in the small back corner of the room. He sighed. The room was white and empty, leaving space for his continual thoughts and emotions to take up the bare dust's inhabitance.

A larger nurse, with short auburn hair entered the room, a brown clipboard in hand. "How are you today, Mr. Evans?" She asked, not really caring for one answer over another. Soul didn't spare his voice for a retort, and simply sat in his bed, staring at the windowless wall, silently praying for some kind of a breeze of daylight to make it's way into his room.

The nurse named, Alcie, (he noticed by her nametag), continued to flit around the white, walking straight through all of the thoughts that had burrowed in the oxygen's spaces. She opened one of the drawers under the sink and pulled out a long needle. "Your doctor told me to inject you with this?" The nurse said, with some uncertainty.

Soul merely shrugged in response. "For my asthma." He supplied helpfully. In no time at all it had black liquid coursing through it.

She nodded toward him. "All right, hold out your arm." She instructed.

With a small, wet paper towel, Alcie rubbed the crease of his elbow and pushed the needle through his skin. When half of the liquid was already rushing through his veins a small girl, probably around the same age of Soul burst into the room. She startled Alcie, but it didn't stop the nurse from finishing the injection.

"What are you doing in here girl? Where's your mother?" Alcie gave a quick wipe to the needle. The small blue haired creature looked between the two, confused. "Ciò che è il suo nome, ho detto. Lei ascolta? Lei non può essere qui dentro." The nurse began to scrutinize her features, also figuring about the same age as Soul. "Is she a friend of yours?"

The look of blatant fear on the girls face already gave him his answer. "Yeah, she's with me." He answered the nurse, still eyeing the beautiful girl with a watchful gaze. "Probably here to visit." Alcie nodded, and left the room, after washing the needle and her hands thoroughly.

Silence ensured. The small girl hadn't moved from her spot since the nurse yelled at her. "Ora che lei è qui dentro, lei può sedersi. Non mordo." She seemed even more frightened. What was with this girl?

He watched as her mouth slowly moved, as she found her voice. "Do you speak English?" Oh. That's what it was.

"Certo posso. Yeah, no problem. I can speak it." He said fluently. In his studies, he learned many languages. Other than music, languages from around the world felt like a gift to him. Since he excelled at it so much, he had been recently studying his seventh language. By this point, he knew Italian, his native language, French, German, Chinese, Spanish, and of course, English.

Relief flooded through her face. She smiled and went to sit down beside him. "So what's your name?" Soul had decieded to pleasantly communicate with her. It wasn't everyday he got to flex his language expertise on a native of any place.

"Eruka. What's yours?" She answered amiably.

"Soul. Soul Evans." He said, shaking her hand lightly. "So, what were you running from?" She raised an eyebrow, giving him the signal to elaborate. "Well, when you rushed in here, I just figured…" Soul trailed, when he saw that she caught his idea.

"Oh, well, I guess I was just trying to get away from this scary lady that brought me here. She said she needed me, but hasn't said for what though." Soul nodded.

"Why is she so scary?"

Her cheeks puffed up cutely, and her eyes became wide. "She's a real witch, ya know?" Well, yeah, he knew one, but he doubted an innocent girl like her did. "She's even a doctor here, Medusa." His curiosity grew.

"Medusa?"

"You've heard of her haven't you? Every respectable Witch and Warlock has. As you've heard, it's only natural to be afraid of her."

"Actually, I have no idea what your talking about." The look she gave him, made Soul feel like he was an idiot.

"What do you mean, You don't know? Everyone knows."

"Apparently I don't." Soul replied testily. He hadn't not knowing things that he should. Moreover, he hated being left out of the loop.

Eruka sighed, and manually scooted him over, so she could sit on the bed with him. Her right arm pulled through his, and she moved in closer. "Don't you go to the Council meetings? It's required you know. You could get in troubl-" Her words were cut off by a slight cough in the doorway.

Wes leaned against the said, feeling slightly annoyed and awkward at the same time. Wes was hoping he could get to talking to his brother about what happened, which made him annoyed. However, there was this random girl sitting on Soul's bed with her head almost dug into Soul's shoulder, which made things awkward, for him at least.

"Wes." Soul stated, as if he felt the awkwardness as well. Wes walked in fully, and closed the door behind him.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" Soul's eyebrows shot up, and he gave a small glance to her. Undoubtedly she wondered what Wes had said.

"Wes, questo è Eruka. Eruka, this is Wes."

Wes raised an eyebrow to Soul. "Fa parla l'italiano? Does she speak Italian?" Soul shook his head.

Wes smiled. In his studies, he learned many languages. Other than music, languages from around the world felt like a gift to him. Since he excelled at it so much, he had been recently studying his ninth language. By this point, he knew Italian, his native language, French, German, Chinese, Spanish, Finnish, Korean and of course, English.

"It's very nice to meet you, Eruka." Wes greeted fluently, and accent less.

"Soul, he looks just like you!" She smiled, but didn't move from her seat. Taking the initiative, Wes moved toward them, and sat at the seat, next to the bed. As he stepped closer, Eruka took a moment to get a better look at the man. She pouted. "But Soul is cuter than you."

"As if I asked you." Wes cast an annoyed glance toward them, not accustomed to being demeaned under his brother.

"That's my brother, be nice." Soul scolded tiredly. He watched as her eyes lit up for a moment.

"You have a brother?" She asked, with the utmost curiosity.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Why? Do you have an older sibling?" She bit her lip, and shook her head.

"No. I mean, Yes. I do. Her name is, Lily."

Medusa swung open the door, with the utmost quickness.

"Eruka!" She shrieked. "Why isn't your Soul Protect on?" The small girl whimpered and moved closer to Soul and clung her arm to his.

"His isn't on. Why can't mine be? I felt him from all the way down the hall." The girl pouted and he stared at her in surprise. That was Medusa? It felt odd to see her again after he talked to her. Her voice speaking English felt absolutely foreign to him.

"It doesn't matter what he does, all that matters is that I told you it doesn't go off, no matter the circumstance." Medusa cast a glance at the older Evans, and in a hushed tone, so only the other two could hear her. "There are Death Scythes in this very city! Everything would be ruined if we got caught now. In this early of the game!"

He hadn't a clue what Dr. Me, apparently now known as Medusa, was talking about. Soul Protect, what was that? He didn't know, but soon he felt slightly unsafe.

"Eruka, if she thinks that it's so important, why don't you turn that Soul Project thing on?"

"It's called Soul Protect." She clarified.

"Whatever." He gave her a look, and she nodded. Medusa dragged her out of the room, without a second glance back to the two unsuspecting Evans.

When the maneuver was over, Soul whispered a small goodbye to her.

Wes opened his mouth. "What do you think she meant by Soul Protect?"

"I don't know." Soul replied.

"Do you think it's one of those, child leashes?"

"I think that it is a very large possibility. Maybe you should Google it."

"I think I will."

"So, why did you come?"

"They made me forget."

"Sorry about that."

"It's not your fault." Wes gave a sideward glance to Soul. A moment of silence. "You look troubled." Soul shrugged and extended his back farther into his pillows. "She was pretty, Eruka that is." He was still met with silence. "I've never seen you talk so much. Like, not talk. Communicate, really." The comfortably social ten year old was replaced by his old self, of a moment ago. "I'll go."

Wes could have been imagining things, but he was sure he heard a soft 'Goodbye' right before he closed the door.

Finally, Soul was released from the asylum look alike of hell, or Earth in any case. He walked through the Hospital's automatic doors alongside his older sibling, his stride as smooth as possible. This last week has been anything but uneventful, which included the entire time Soul was confined to the white blanketed hospital mattress.

His days, listen to this blatant lie, were long and tedious, not that he was about to mention anything about the fact, no. Indeed he was to stay completely silent on the delicate subject of his hospital stay.

"How was your hospital stay?" Wes asked as normally and politely as possible. This particular question reminded him of the times he would inwardly chuckle at various ironic situations he had always come to enjoy. Soul tucked his hand into his black trousers, just like Wes had moments before. It smelled like nature outside today.

"Fine." Soul answered him shortly. He didn't spare a glance in his direction. Together, they walked up to the smaller, old fashioned styled car, parked exclusively in the drive up. As Soul and Wes approached it, the chauffer opened it's shiny black doors, where they slid into it's grey, leather seats.

"Did Eruka visit you often?" The door slammed shut, but he could still feel the outside's slightly chilly air.

Soul could feel Wes's eyes still on him.

The ignition started, without his notice, and they began to drive forward. After a few moments of awkward silence, on Soul's part, he turned slightly, shifting his body to face completely away from Wes.

Eruka had actually visited, very often in fact. She came in everyday, apparently brought along by Medusa. He would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy her company through the long hospital days. He didn't have to say much, for she did most of the talking.

Soul used her resources and asked to explain the witches Council and what Soul Protect really was. Apparently it was a trick used by witches and warlocks to lock away their souls so other people couldn't find out that they were witches. By other people, she meant harmful people.

One day he had asked why people hunted them, why they were such a threat to society. She didn't have an answer for him, and he never thought she would.

"I heard that father should wake up soon." Wes attempted. "Maybe in a week or so. That's all I really caught from the doctor. Medical terms aren't really my forte." Wes offered him a small smile. He wasn't accepting gifts this year.

Soul crossed his arms. Wes never looked away, he could feel it. "What are you protecting yourself from?"

Soul stayed silent, but turned completely toward him, straight into his eyes, practically the same as Soul's own. Wes raised his eyebrows at him, and he replied by looking down at himself, body language.

With an aggravated sigh Soul immediately uncrossed his arms and leaned back slightly into his seat.

His mind was a swarming bee hive. His thoughts teeming in a continuous flow of the earths winds, disregarding every flower that crossed under its path, it's wings constantly buzzing without the feel of relief at all. His thought had been on constant repeat since he left, and his mind wouldn't turn off.

"_Soul, you're a warlock"_

"_Prove it." _

_"I can't." _

_"Since I am a witch, if I were to use my power I would be captured." _

"_We know that Soul, you aren't entirely human."_

"_Medusa?" _

_"There are some people that think we are dangerous. If they found out that I was a witch, __**they **__would kill me." _

_"There are schools for this, Soul." _

_**"They? **__Who are __**they?" **_

"_You've heard of her haven't you? Every respectable Witch and Warlock has. As you've heard, it's only natural to be afraid of her." _

_"I used to go to one in fact. Where Weapons and Meisters, that is what we call the people who wield the weapons, go and hunt witches to become a death scythe." _

_"I thought you didn't believe me." _

_I don't. _

"You wanna talk?" Wes asked, his question swallowed by his silence.

"Not especially."

"Really, It's no trouble."

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Keeping your emotions bottled up won't do you any good."

"I'm not sure talking about them would do much better." Soul murmured, closing his eyes and settling in his seat.

"I'm just saying," Wes started, "you've been on anxiety's tight end since you woke up, and usually you have a wooden back either way."

"Are you implying something?"

Wes crossed his arms, and turned to face the window. "Look, If you don't trust me that's fine, but don't keep yourself locked up. Stuff like this is just going to build up, and if you don't talk to someone soon, you'll burst."

_"The kind that's so great, if you don't use it soon..." she took a short pause, "you'll burst." _

Soul's eyes snapped open. "Is that so?" Wes merely shrugged, and didn't offer any more words. Silence filled the vehicle the rest of the ride home.

With an aggravated grunt, he moved off the new couch in the library and opened the nearest window, even though it was slightly chilly that day, and the sun was playing Hide and Go Seek, and winning.

He supposed though, that even though the past conversations came off more than unnerving to him, there was something that bothered him even more. Ever since the, incident, with his father, that little devil of and imp hadn't spoken to him, in dreams or otherwise. Soul welcomed the peaceful sleep, but it made him uneasy that such a constant in his life had vanished.

Ever since a couple months ago, anything that had become a constant in his life had slowly diminished into the present, nothing. He had no idea what or who to expect. Sooner or later, he supposed, he would sprout wings, and take little pig-tailed girls on joyrides. Soul snickered slightly at the thought.

However, in reality, his weariness of the situation grew every so often, and every time he gave a thought to it, his mind wandered back to the same problem, the same situation, the same day that should've gave him nightmares, but hadn't even on the first night.

It was the moment where the brunette girl, with the dazzling green eyes, breath caught in her throat, when her life danced mockingly before her. He remembered every moment, she was afraid, deathly afraid, ironically.

Soul continued to pretend to read his book, for no audience, but his own. He wondered how Wes emotionally dealt with the situation.

"Soul?" Wes called, interrupting Soul's thoughts. He entered the library quietly to see his brother reading something he probably picked up that day. Soul gave no answer, but Wes knew he had heard him. "Father was released from the hospital today. He's home now."

Soul snapped his book shut, and set it on the small table beside him. He looked up at Wes and asked "What's his condition?" Wes closed the door and moved to sit on the seat beside him on the couch.

"A broken arm, stitches. Nothing life threatening any more."

Soul cleared his throat, and clarified, "Does he, remember anything?"

Wes shook his head. "The doctor said something about Post-Traumatic Amnesia or something. They said that it was unlikely that he would remember anything any time soon." Soul nodded, inwardly pleased that it worked out for him so well. "Do you remember anything, Soul?"

He shot up at the question, and stared into Wes's innocently curious eyes. Wes took this gesture as a sign of fear rather than surprise, and immediately retracted the question. "I'm sorry, Soul, I didn't mean-"

"It's alright." Soul stuttered slightly, and regained his composer. "It's not you, I've just, had a lot on my mind lately."

Wes nodded. "I know, I already asked, but, are you sure you don't want to talk? I know I'm your big brother, and I haven't always been there for you, but I want to change that. Even if mother and father don't want to be, I want to be apart of your life, Soul."

Soul shifted in his seat, and nodded. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" Wes pushed, for clarification.

"Actually, there was something that I had been meaning to ask you about." Soul shifted again, not yet finding a very comfortable spot.

Wes's eyebrows shot up, and smiled slightly in accomplishment. "Anything, Soul. Just shoot."

"How did you," Soul started, not quite certain how to begin to ask. "How did you deal with it?"

Wes raised an eyebrow. "With father? I don't really-"

"No." Soul interrupted. "Not that." Wes ushered him to continue. "What happened a couple months ago. You remember, right?" Wes began to slowly nod in understanding. "When the police came to the school and stuff, you know." Wes nodded, assured.

"Well, I'm not sure if how I dealt with it had to do with anything. Really, I had to deal with nothing. You on the other hand, seemed pretty wound up."

"Well yeah," Soul confirmed, "but, It's not like anyone knew what was happening. The whole school was like a blood bath."

Wes gave him an odd look that he couldn't quite decipher. "I don't think blood bath quite fits what happened. Confused would better suit it."

Soul laughed bitterly. "Confused? I was completely soaked in blood. I watched a whole classroom die before my eyes, and so did you! I have no idea how you are so calm about this whole situation!"

"Wait, wait, wait. Who was soaked in blood?" Wes interrupted, much more confused than Soul was.

Soul gave an exasperated sigh, "I was!"

"The doctors didn't give you Vicodin did they?"

"Wes, what the hell are you talking about?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about that huge incident that happened a couple months ago."

"So am I!"

"Then why are you pretending like I'm not making any sense?" Soul yelled, both were standing up by this point.

"It's because you're not!" Wes looked as though he were to pull out his own hair, and he liked his hair very much so.

Soul sat down and ran a couple fingers through his hair. "How am I not making sense?"

Wes took this moment to sit down and straighten his collar. "Your talking about the incident a couple months ago, correct." Soul gave a solitary nod. "The time when you randomly had a panic attack in the classroom. You started yelling, swearing, whatever and you wouldn't move, even when people tried to get you to stand up or something. They had to call the cops just to get you to stand up, let alone get out of the school. Mother and Father personally took you out of the schooling system after that and had you home schooled along with me, under your doctors orders. She said you were too influenced under stress or something. See? This is why I'm confused. No, blood bath is not how you would describe this event. No need to be so melodramatic." Wes continued talking, but Soul wasn't listening to a single word. Panic Attack? That didn't sound right. Everything seemed so real. He could still vividly imagine the girls eyes… did he just use the word imagine? A moment, however. There was something still missing.

"What about Mr. Payne?" Wes stopped in his long speech for a moment, no aware that Soul hadn't listened to a word of it.

"That's what gave you so much stress, right? Because he had a heart attack the day before?"

"Excuse me." Soul jumped up from his spot and left the room quickly, not sparing a glance in the taller, much older twin's direction.

"Soul!" Wes called out. "Soul, come back!"

Soul heard his receding calls but paid no mind. Things didn't make any sense. His mind was clouded with possibilities. Why did Wes's memory of the months accounts just click in his head, and make absolute sense. Then, the thing that he remembered. It felt as a falling dream, pulling itself away from his grasp. He didn't understand. He couldn't.

_See Soul? You are depressing. You even have to make up memories to make you even more depressed. You're a sad, strange little man aren't you? Sadistic really. _

_**You know anything about this? **_

_Know anything? _The imp laughed demonically inside his head. _I did it. _

* * *

**Do you still hate me? Or do you wanna review? Huh? Huuuh? I know you wanna. ~~**


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